Bloody Roulette
by Lucaris
Summary: Freshly spilled blood moves the white pawn. Their eternal game of chess begins anew, but this time on a different board and with different pieces. But it doesn't matter. The world doesn't change. It just turns. It's the same for any world, wherever it is.
1. Intro: First Blood

Killer7 stories are quite rare, crossovers even more so. So I decided to try my hand at it. Killer7 is a bit of an obscure title, and even those who have played it are not quite sure what exactly the game meant, as it's full of symbolism and references to both Eastern and Western cultures.

But with that said, you don't need to have played the game to be able to read this story, though it is recommended.

* * *

_**Intro: First Blood**_

Louise Françoise le Blanc de La Vallière lay on the grass in a pool of blood, courtesy of a bullet to the brain.

She wasn't alone in that respect. Her familiar, just recently summoned, is in a similar state, blood gushing out of his neck and mouth, a golden gun clutched in his right hand.

The crowd of students around them were horrified at what they had just seen. Some vomited, some screamed, some cried, some passed out, and some did a combination of the four.

When Louise stepped up to summon her familiar, they never expected she would summon a human; a dark skinned child wearing a red shirt and black pants, with his knees on the floor and his back facing his summoner.

After a bit of mocking from the students, claiming that she summoned a commoner, Louise stomped up to the boy, right behind him. Just as she leaned over to turn him around, a loud gunshot filled the courtyard, and then a spray of blood erupted from the girl and her familiar.

Screams. Colbert, in the blink of an eye, was next to the prone forms, casting as many healing spells as he knew while yelling out to the students to get the school healer, but it was far too late. Louise was dead, and the boy would soon follow.

Wrought with sadness and disappointment in himself for allowing this to happen to a student and for having the children see the sight of death, Colbert moved to make preparations for the youngest Valliere's untimely demise. But just as he began to guide the students out of the courtyard, Louise's body exploded.

But no, it wasn't a normal explosion. It was an explosion of blood.

A countless number of the crimson droplets floated in the air, writhing and pulsating. The students panicked, some running out of the courtyard screaming while others watched the spectacle in grotesque fascination.

The particles of blood floated in the air for a few moments before converging on the boy with the golden gun, covering his form in a blanket of red, his body appearing to be absorbed into it as the blood converged and twisted all the while. The blood floated for another moment and then shaped itself into a human form. Blood turned to skin and hair, then to clothes, changed color, and then disappeared entirely. The students and the teacher couldn't believe it, because standing where two corpses once laid, was Louise, completely unharmed like nothing happened, carrying a black suitcase that was almost as tall and wide as she was...

...with the familiar runes blazing on her left hand.

Colbert ran up to the pink haired girl, as did many of the students.

"Miss Valliere!" Colbert shouted in relief, casting a diagnostic spell in case the girl was still harmed,"You're alive! Thank the Founder!" The pink haired girl didn't respond, merely turning her head and raising an eyebrow at the professor.

"Valliere?" The pink haired girl asked. "Who is Valliere?"

Colbert became worried. Could she have gotten brain damage from the gunshot? "Th- That's you of course," he said uneasily, "Louise Françoise le Blanc de La Vallière, of the House Vallière!"

Louise stared at the professor before shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I am not this Valliere that you speak of." Ignoring the confused looks, she fully turned to the professor and stood a little straighter, chest out and chin held up high.

"My name is Louise Smith, member of the Killer7."

And then Louise turned and walked away.

Colbert stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Louise looked at the man with a raised eyebrow.

"You're coming with me to see the Headmaster immediately!" he exclaimed.

"I'm busy," was the former Valliere's cool reply.

Colbert shook his head, "I'm afraid there isn't a choice Ms. Valliere."

"It's Smith," she corrected, "and there's no way you're letting this go, are you?" At Colbert's hard look, Louise sighed. "Fine. I'll go along with you for now."

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.

I've already got a few chapters written out, but I want to gauge how this does before posting. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. Critiques are highly welcomed!


	2. Change

_**2: Change**_

"You died, Miss Vallière!" the balding man, Colbert, yelled.

"Smith," she replied coolly. The headmaster, Osmond and his secretary, a green haired, bespectacled young woman known as Miss Longueville, looked at her with a raised eyebrow before turning to the professor.

"She also believes that her name is Louise Smith," Colbert said, answering the unasked question, "and that she is a member of something called 'Killer7'. I believe that she may be suffering from the trauma of getting shot."

"Shot?" Osmond questioned, observing Louise, "Shot where? Miss Valliè-"

"Smith," the girl interrupted.

"Er, Miss Smith seems fine to me."

Colbert swallowed, not really sure how to convey what it was exactly he saw. "Well, you see, after Miss Val-"

"Smith," Louise interrupted again.

Colbert shook his head and sighed. "After Miss Smith was accidentally shot by her familiar's suicide, I rushed over and cast as many healing spells as I could, but it was already too late, the shot had killed her instantly." Colbert paused, a look of disappointment and regret flashing on his face before continuing. "After that, I proceeded to make preparations for Miss Smith's death when her body… exploded."

Osmond and his secretary looked surprised. "Exploded?" Osmond asked. "As in, her usual attempts at spells? Er, no offense."

Louise shook her head. "None taken."

"Well, no, headmaster," Colbert continued. "Her body exploded into… blood."

Osmond's eyes widened. "B-Blood?"

"Yes. It was like a bloody mist, sir. The blood floated in the air before they converged on the boy, absorbing him into the mist and then shaping into Miss Va-Smith."

Osmond stroked his beard in thought. "What can you tell me about the boy?"

"Well," Colbert began, "I had cast a Detect Magic spell on the child. The results were… interesting."

"Oh?"

"It detected something, but… it wasn't magic. I don't even know how to describe it, really. It was almost like magic… yet not. I was actually going to research this matter later tonight."

Osmond nodded. "A boy who had an energy similar to magic? Yes, researching that would wise. Louise… what can you tell me about the boy?"

"He was a colleague," The pink haired girl replied.

Osmond's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Colleague? You mean you've met before?"

"In a sense."

The headmaster waited for her to elaborate, but the girl just stood silently, playing with a lock of her hair. After a moment, he sighed.

"Well anyway, there's another issue I'd like to address; you're familiar runes. Is it alright if I see them?"

Louise nodded as she raised her left hand, the familiar runes visible to them all.

"Those are some very unique runes," the headmaster said as he leaned over his desk for a closer look.

Colbert nodded his head in agreement. "Indeed. None of the previous summonings I oversaw had familiar engravings quite like these." The professor adopted a contemplative look. "Though I've a feeling that I've seen these somewhere before… perhaps I'll add it on to my research tonight."

"Is that all?" the self-proclaimed Smith questioned as she lowered her hand. "I have things to take care of."

Osmond nodded. "Yes, Miss Smith. Thank you for your time." At that, Louise bowed gracefully before picking up her suitcase.

"Sayonara." She said as she opened the door and left, confusing the three other occupants at the strange word.

After a moment, Colbert turned to the headmaster. "Should I inform Miss Vallière's family about today?"

The headmaster shook his head. "No, Professor Colbert. For now, we keep what happened here in the school. We wouldn't want to worry her family."

"And what of the students? Surely they will inform their families?"

"Possible, but would anyone believe what happened? I have a hard time believing it myself, to be honest."

Colbert grimaced slightly, but nodded. "Understood. Now then, I must get a head start on that research." With a slight bow of the head, the professor left the room and made a beeline for the library.

As the door closed, Osmond's mind worked. Colbert was an honest man, and despite being nothing more than a teacher now, he was a man that he would trust with his life. But what he said contradicted the facts before him; Louise died, but the very same girl stood in his office mere moments ago.

'Or rather, Louise Vallière died, and Louise Smith was born,' Osmond thought, 'But what sort of magic could do such a thing? Not even Brimir could bring a person back from the dead. And why the name change?'

Her name wasn't the only thing that changed. From what he had heard and observed of Louise from before the ritual, she was very insecure about her magic but hid it (poorly, he added) under her pride, and was very vocal in defending herself (usually against Miss Zerbst). But this Louise didn't so much as flinch when he commented on her failed spells. She seemed to accept it, in fact. And the way she held herself...

She reminded him of her mother. Thankfully not as severe, though.

The girl seemed to be in an awful hurry to leave. Where could she be going after such an event?

It was time to bring out the scrying ball again. But before that...

"So, Miss Longueville …" Osmond began as he turned to his secretary.

"Yes, headmaster?"

"White today, hm?"

"Headmaster!"

* * *

Louise Valliere, or rather, Louise Smith stepped into her room and locked the door. She scanned the room before quickly crossing over to the curtains and closing them, only the small light of the sun peeking in through the curtains' gaps lighting the room. She turned, then made her way to a room that wasn't there before today.

Harman's Room. Her Master's room.

Slowly, she turned the knob and walked inside, closing the door behind her quietly. The room's interior was devoid of any furniture aside from a small table with an old, worn out metal box with a glass screen and a remote with only two buttons; ON and OFF. The walls of the room appeared to be worn out as well, the wallpaper full of cracks and rips in many places. There were no windows, the only light coming from a single fluorescent lamp in the middle of the ceiling.

In the middle of this room was an old man, dressed completely in black with a bowler hat on his head, slumped on a metal framed wheelchair with his head down and mouth hanging open.

To a casual observer, he looked dead.

Louise strode over to the table, picked up the remote, and pressed the OFF button.

The light disappeared, covering the room in darkness. But it was only for a moment, as two spot lights cut through it, lighting the forms of Louise and the now stirring man in the wheelchair. Louise reverently kneeled, her fists on the floor, head down in absolute submission.

"Master Harman," the pink haired girl said.

"Ah, my dear Louise," the old man, Harman replied. His voice was aged and raspy, but held a clarity and flow like that of the finest wine. "How long has it been since we last met?"

"Far too long, Master," the girl replied. "Forgive me for my tardiness. I had heard your call, but was unable to respond due to certain circumstances."

Harman shook his head. "Think nothing of it, Louise. You are still a student in their eyes. The professor merely had your best interests at heart." The girl nodded her head in understanding.

"Now, onto business." The girl raised her head, giving her Master her full attention. "There is much disturbance in this world. I can feel it. The tidings of war are approaching."

"What shall I do, Master?"

"For now, we wait. Let the world's events come to pass, and then act."

"Yes, Master."

"However,' Harman warned, "one such disturbance has already made its way to this school."

"The woman," Louise stated.

"Yes. Watch her. If need be, call on the others." Louise nodded her head.

"Is there anything else, Master?"

Harman smiled slightly. "Yes. I will need a caretaker for when I am asleep."

The pink haired girl nodded her head once more. "I will find you one as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Louise. Now then, the lights."

"Yes, Master."

At the click of a button, the room was once again bathed in light, and the elder man went back to his slumber.

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.


	3. Observations

_**3: Observations**_

Louise had died, that much Tabitha knew. There was no denying the glassy eyed stare of death that was on the girl's face, her body laid on the grass in her own blood. And then she exploded and revived herself in a mist of the red liquid, looking exactly as she was before the ritual. Then there was the matter of her familiar, the cause of her death, who committed suicide and was absorbed into her. What's more, the familiar runes had become inscribed onto the girl's hand, a first in the history of Halkeginia, if she recalled from her reading. But what Tabitha noted was the girl's expression.

The face set in an emotionless mask. The eyes, however, conveyed something much more.

Confidence. Strength. Purpose. As well as a hint of dark intent.

And then she denied her own family name, calling herself Louise Smith, member of something called the Killer7. Whatever group called themselves 'Killer' was either arrogant, dangerous, or both. Or they just had poor naming sense. The number 'seven' in the name suggested that this group contained seven members.

Tabitha had a feeling she was going to meet them very soon.

The next day, Tabitha sat in the dining hall staring at the door from the top of her book waiting for the former Valliere to arrive. Most of the students had already been seated, some staring hungrily at the food while others talked about random topics. The pink haired girl finally passed through the doors carrying the large suitcase with her. Others noticed and some began to mock her for her failure at summoning a familiar, the ones that weren't at the ritual, anyway. The nobles that had taken part of the summoning ritual kept silent, some even gagging a little at the memory. Louise just kept on walking, not even slowing her pace or even changing her expression as she sat in her seat, setting her suitcase down next to her. A moment later, after all the students have arrived, they rose to begin the morning prayer. Louise remained seated.

Louise did not utter a single word of the breakfast prayer. No, she didn't even deign to acknowledge it as she began eating her food while the other students prayed. The nobles near her were shocked at the blatant disrespect for the Founder. Some called her out on it when the prayer finished, but again, she did not acknowledge them. Louise was the first to finish breakfast, leaving her seat quietly as she picked up her suitcase and walked out of the dining hall.

"What's gotten into her?" her only friend, Kirche, asked as she stared at the retreating form of the pink haired girl.

"… Rebirth," was Tabitha's reply.

Tabitha entered the classroom with her friend after they've finished their breakfast. A few students were already in the classroom, among them the self-proclaimed Smith leaning on a chair at the back of the class with arms crossed and eyes closed. Tabitha heard some of the students whisperings as she made her way to her usual seat.

"Can't believe that Valliere, ignoring the morning prayer like that, who does she think she is?"

"It's Smith now, remember?"

"Look at her hand! Familiar runes!"

"She binded herself? How does that happen? Feh, only the Zero could…"

"But you have to admit, that was a strange ritual…"

"So much blood…"

Louise made no indication that she heard them.

More students filed into the classroom, chatting amiably, some noticing the former Valliere and joining the other nobles in their gossiping. A few minutes later, the professor, Mrs. Chevreuse, entered the classroom and began the lesson.

Tabitha spent much of the lesson reading, keeping a small part of her attention on the lesson, it wasn't like she hadn't heard this lecture before. After a while, the teacher had demonstrated a basic transmutation by turning a small block of stone into brass.

"… Now then," Mrs. Chevreuse began, "who would like to try a hand at transmuting?" The professor looked at Louise, who at this time was still in the same position when the class started. "Miss Valliere, are you paying attention?" At that, Tabitha looked up from her book, interested in how this exchange will play out.

"Smith. And yes, ma'am, I am." The girl replied, still keeping her eyes closed.

Mrs. Chevreuse frowned. "Well then, why don't you transmuting these pebbles into brass?" She said as she gestured toward a few pebbles lying next to the brass block. Some of the students paled. Kirche began to say something, but Louise beat her to it.

"I will have to decline, ma'am." Louise said, finally opening her eyes and staring directly into the professor's own. "I have no magical capability to create or change the state of the brass."

The class, save Tabitha, looked taken aback at that. Kirche spoke up, "You're admitting that you're a Zero?"

"Correct and incorrect."

Kirche blinked, not sure how to respond. Louise stood up from her seat.

"While my capability to create or transmute is zero, I can do something else."

At that, she pointed her wand at the block of brass, and with no incantation, fired a small sphere of light that sped faster than the eye could see. The light made contact, and the brass exploded, its pieces hitting the wall behind the teacher's desk, some of the shrapnel embedding itself into the stone. The explosion was not like Louise's usual explosions. This one was smaller and controlled, but still had enough force to destroy the metal completely. The class looked from the former Valliere to where the brass had been in shock.

"While my magic is not suited for creation," the girl said as she lowered her wand, "it is more than suited for destruction."

"… Ha!" a rather plump boy, Malicorne, Tabitha recalled, yelled out suddenly, "So what!? It still means that you're a zero!"

Louise calmly turned to the boy. "Imagine if that," She pointed a thumb at the remains of the block, "had been your head." The way she said it, as if she was simply discussing the weather, unnerved the students.

"I-Is that a threat?" the plump boy said, trembling. Louise shook her head.

"No, just an example. I don't hurt children." Louise replied as she sat down, leaning back on her chair, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. The plump boy looked cross at being called a child, but did not say anything, afraid that the former Valliere may turn on him regardless of her words.

"But," she began suddenly, "my colleagues might not be so lenient."

"Colleagues?" Tabitha asked, knowing whom the pink haired girl was referring to, hoping to get some information on them. The rest of the class listened intently for her answer.

Louise opened a single eye and glanced at the blue haired girl. "The Killer7."

"Why the name 'Killer'?" Tabitha asked, but she already knew the answer.

Louise opened both of her eyes, turning her head toward Tabitha. Surprisingly, Louise smiled.

"Because it's our job."

Everyone looked at Louise with wide eyes. She smiled back at them all. A smile full of joy.

It made the class shiver as a whole. The students near her moved away.

And then Louise returned to her poker face, leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Everyone relaxed.

The lesson resumed, but no one had their heads in it.

Class was dismissed earlier than normal. Students spoke in hushed voices as they left, coming up with theories for the former Valliere's sudden change.

Tabitha left the classroom with more questions. How did Louise become a part of this Killer7? How did Louise suddenly gain an understanding of her magic? Who was the boy she summoned?

But one thing was certain. Louise Smith was dangerous.

The blue haired girl stared along with mingling students at the retreating back of the Smith.

Tabitha made sure to keep an eye on Louise from that day on.

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.

Please tell me what you think, and again, critiques are welcomed.


	4. The Maid

**_4: The Maid_**

It was time for the second years to bond with their familiars, but since Louise did not have one, she merely sat down and enjoyed the scenery. Many of the other nobles carefully avoided her. A maid with a fairly voluptuous figure that caught the eye of more than a few nobles approached Louise with a pot of tea. The pink haired girl regarded the maid for a moment, eyes traveling all over the maid's figure.

"You're hired," Louise declared as she pointed to a black haired maid as she served the tea. The maid in question was surprised at the sudden, and not to mention random, gesture, and from a noble no less.

"I'm… sorry?" The maid asked, looking very confused. This pink haired girl didn't reply as she got up from her table.

"Your name?" the girl asked.

"Um, Siesta, Miss," Siesta replied.

"I am Louise Smith. Come with me, Siesta," the girl, Louise, said, taking hold of the maids arm as she dragged her away from the courtyard, much to the confusion of the other nobles watching the event. A blue haired girl watched the scene intently until they entered the tower and were out of sight.

Siesta was strung helplessly along by the surprisingly strong girl as they entered her dorm room, locking the door behind her. Silently, Louise strode over to the curtains, and after looking out the window for a few moments, closed them, dimming the room in shadow.

'W-What is she going to do to me?' Siesta thought worriedly, a small blush tinting her cheeks. This was beginning to look like one of her… tasteful novels. But usually it was a very handsome noble that whisks the maid into his room, not a girl that looked barely past her teens. She took a step back as the pink haired girl approached her. 'B-but we're both women! This is not right!'

A small part of her, however, licked its lips in anticipation.

Siesta steeled herself when she felt the noble's hand cup her own. The maid expected to be led to the bed, but instead she was led to another door.

'Strange… I don't recall the other dorms having another door like this,' Siesta thought.

Slowly, Louise opened the door and stepped inside with Siesta. The maid looked around at the strange room's interior until her eyes fell upon an old man slumped on a strange looking chair.

"Ah!" Siesta gasped, "Miss, who is that!?"

Louise ignored the question as she took the remote from the table and pressed the 'OFF' button. Siesta let out a squeak as the light was replaced with darkness. She let out another when the spotlights came on all three of them. Siesta's eyes widened when she saw Louise kneel to the now awake man. Siesta quickly followed suit.

'Is he a noble?' the maid wondered as she looked up from her position. One look immediately disproved that. The man didn't have the embroidery that usually accompanied nobles. His clothing looked cheaply made as well, being a simple shirt, pants, pair of shoes, and a hat, all pure black. And no noble would be staying in a room that looked like it was falling apart.

The man was old, as evidenced by his wrinkled face and white hair. He had a strong build though, despite his age. He held a smile; a kind, grandfatherly smile that made her blush as he regarded her and Louise. There was something about his eyes, though. They showed age, the kind of age that showed that he had seen so much in his lifetime, probably even more than that, and will continue to do so, eyes that looked beyond mortals and encompassed the entire world. There was a hint of something dark in them but there was also a willingness to protect the things he cared about, no matter the cost.

This man, who sat in a dilapidated room dressed in cheap cloth commanded more charisma and respect than anyone Siesta had ever encountered before.

She had never felt more humbled in her life.

"Ah, my dear Louise," the man said, "who is this child that you have brought before me?"

"Her name is Siesta, Master," the girl replied as she looked at the maid. The maid raised her eyebrows.

'Master?' Siesta thought.

"I have appointed her as your caretaker," Louise finished.

'Caretaker?' Siesta wondered as she blinked. So this is what she meant when she said she was hired. Siesta's eyes widened; she was hired to be this man's personal maid!? The stories in her novels went to the front of her mind, a large blush appearing on her face.

"Is something wrong, Siesta?" the man asked. Siesta jumped and shook her head vigorously.

"No! It's nothing!" Siesta replied. Louise raised her eyebrows and the old man just smiled in an amused fashion.

"Relax, child," the man said, and Siesta felt her body do so immediately. The maid wondered how he did that.

"Let me introduce myself," the man straightened his posture, but still kept that smile on his face. "I am Harman Smith, leader of the Killer7."

Siesta looked confused at the mention of Killer7 and wanted to ask what it meant, but with a name like 'Killer', she opted to keep her mouth closed.

"It seems that Louise has chosen you to be my caretaker," Harman continued, smiling, "I only mentioned it yesterday. I did not think that she would find one this quickly."

"It was no trouble, Master," the pink haired girl said. The leader nodded.

"Would you like to accept the job, Siesta?" the man asked.

Siesta bit her lip in thought before replying, "I don't know, sir. I have other duties as a maid of this castle and that job supports my family. People will begin to notice if I start shirking my duties."

Abruptly, a small bag was thrown at her feet, courtesy of Louise, surprising the maid, making a jingling sound as it hit the floor. "Then quit. I will speak to your employer." Louise said.

Slowly, Siesta opened the bag and gasped. The bag was filled with gold coins, far more than she would've made in an entire year! "Miss Louise, I-I can't accept this!" Siesta said loudly, her voice quivering in disbelief, hands taking the bag of money and offering them back to the pink haired girl. Louise shook her head.

"Drop the 'miss', we are colleagues now," Louise replied, "And do not worry about the money. It is no object to worry about for the Killer7."

Siesta lowered her hands, clutching the bag of money to her chest. "… Thank you… Louise," the maid said finally, her eyes sparkling in gratitude. With this, her family would have nothing to worry about for a good long while. Siesta stood up and looked at Harman. "What are my duties as your maid?"

Harman smiled again. "I do not require much. Merely food and baths, as well as the occasional walk outside. I will notify you if I need anything else." He looked to Louise. "You will also aid my dear Louise if she requires it."

Siesta bowed, deeper than she ever had before. "I understand, Master Harman." Harman smiled once more.

"Welcome, Siesta, to the Killer7. Now tell me, do you play chess?"

* * *

"What do you mean everything was stolen!?" The noble screamed at his guards, a group of about two dozen commoners. "There were about 10 enchantments done to my vault, not to mention you," he snarled at 'you', putting as much venom as he could into the word, "to prevent this sort of thing! How did this happen!?"

"W-we don't know sir." The guard captain replied, his voice and body quivering in fear. "It must have happened while we were changing shifts, sir, but we didn't hear anything!"

The noble grit his teeth in anger. "Even still, you incompetent swine!" the noble spat. "My vault was placed in the highest tower! I would think it would be fairly easy to see someone climbing the stairs!"

Could a disgraced noble be behind this? It was the only explanation. The criminal must've been quite a strong mage, a triangle class or higher. Might've been a wind mage, as the only other way to get in was a window in front of the vault. But that didn't matter, he will whoever did this and make him pay. The noble strode over to his vault and see what magic was used to break into his vault.

However, he found nothing. The noble's eyes widened. It was impossible! There should be evidence of a break in; broken stone, a charred wall, anything, for only he had the key that broke the enchantments. He ran to the double doors, taking out the key from his pocket. He placed a hand on the door... and the door swung open.

"This… can't be…" the noble said slowly, dropping the key. The door was always locked and enchanted to prevent anyone from breaking or it or the door itself. The lock itself was a complicated piece of work by a master locksmith that only a special key, his key, could unlock.

But the thief had done it. And in the span of a few minutes not only had he picked the lock, he had also stolen everything.

A small slip of paper was the only thing inside the vault. The noble picked it up, glanced at its contents, and then crushed it in his hand as he trembled in anger.

There were only two words on the slip of paper.

**You're fucked.**

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.

Another short chapter of getting the setting down.

The last line is the catchphrase of one of the Killer7's members.

Please tell me what you think, and again, critiques are welcomed.


	5. Strength

**_5: Strength_**

Colbert was tired. He had spent much of the week holed up in the library, often forgoing sleep in favor of researching to unravel the mystery that was Louise Smith.

He had found that, much to his excitement, the runes the girl possessed were those of the legendary Gandalfr, the Left Hand of God, one of Founder Brimir's familiars. But why did they brand themselves onto the summoner? According to the books he's read through, multiple times, this was the first time this has ever happened.

And then there was Louise's denial of her own family name. True, familiar runes have some sort of mind altering effect to make the familiar subservient to their masters, but nothing suggests that the runes would go to the extent of rewriting a familiar's entire identity!

So that left that it may have been the circumstances of the summoning; Louise Valliere was killed, turned into blood, and reformed herself as Louise Smith.

All in all, a completely impossible event occurred.

And it was all due to the boy that she had summoned.

The boy... who was he? The boy's skin was dark, not like the tanned skin of a Germanian, and his facial features couldn't be placed among any of Halkeginia's nations. Could he be from beyond the elven lands? It was possible, as when Colbert cast Detect Magic upon the boy, it detected magic, but it was... different. A new type of magic, perhaps? Even the boy's weapon was different. It looked like a flintlock pistol, but the sound it made when it fired was akin to that of a cannon's. Unfortunately, the weapon was... absorbed by Louise before he had a chance to get a good look at it. And what were the circumstances that drove the boy to commit suicide? Louise referred to him as a 'colleague', so was he part of the Killer7?

And then there was that question: who are the Killer7? Louise declared, or believed, herself to be a part of this organization. If the name was anything to go by, their profession was easy to figure out. Colbert's hands clenched into fists. He will not allow Louise to be part of a group of murderers. He went down that path once, believing it was for the good of the country. But now he regretted it all, feeling the weight of his sins every single day.

Unfortunately, Colbert found absolutely nothing about Killer7. Either they were that good... or Louise made it all up, made to believe that she was part of it due to the familiar runes. But the latter did not make sense because the familiar runes aren't designed to do that!

Colbert sighed heavily. 'What in Brimir's name has happened to you, Louise?' he though as he rubbed his eyes. Sighing once more, he stood up and headed for his room, deciding to get some rest before starting his research again.

Rumble.

Colbert stopped. What was that?

Rumble. Rumble.

'An earthquake?' Colbert thought. 'No... earthquakes don't act like this. These feel like...' The professor's eyes widened. He rushed to the nearest window and saw the source of the rumbling. '...like footsteps.'

Adrenaline replaced fatigue. The professor took his staff and dashed down the stairs with only one thought in mind; protecting the children.

'Founder, give me strength,' Colbert prayed.

There was a golem on the loose.

* * *

"It is a beautiful day out. Thank you again, Siesta. This is the first time I have been outside in a long while."

"It is no trouble, Master Harman."

The maid pushed the wheelchair gently along the courtyard, a smile visible on her face as she hummed slightly to herself. It had been about a week since Siesta had come under the employ of the Smiths. True to his word, Harman Smith really did not require much above the basic necessities. The most her duties extended to were bringing food, helping Harman bathe, laundry, and cleaning. Louise even helped her sometimes when she wasn't… off doing whatever it is she did. It was one of the things she noticed in the past few days. The young Smith would at times disappear, most often during the nighttime. When the maid asked Louise what she was doing, the girl said it was 'business' and left it at that. Siesta let it go, but curiosity burned within her.

There was also her Master who would be in a state of semi-consciousness most of the time. The only way to properly wake him was to turn off the lights in the small, dilapidated room he stayed in. She asked why one of his position chose to stay in such a place, and he said that 'it is most comfortable here.' He also loved chess, so much that he even taught her how to play. Both of them would often sit down together in the Viewing Room, a new and much finer looking room that just appeared one day in Louise's Room, and play. Harman said it was by his will that the came to be, just so they had a nice place to play chess. Siesta marveled at how much power Master Harman had to actually be able to will a room into existence.

Despite the odd events happening around her, Siesta was quite happy. When she was employed by the school, she had a multitude of things to do. The maid was always running back and forth cleaning the school halls and rooms, helping with cooking, doing laundry, serving food, seeing to the needs of the nobles, and such. Every day was always a busy day. But now, she found that she had all the time in the world, most of which she spent reading books.

And it was all thanks to her simply being the one to serve Louise tea.

And certainly not that the petite girl was attracted to her in some way. Siesta had to fight a blush as she recalled the way Louise stared at her on that day, the Smith's eyes moving all over her figure in approval.

That one dirty part of her mind reveled in the attention.

Suddenly, the maid heard shouting. She turned her head to find the source coming from within a small crowd of students on one of the school's walkways. Siesta looked at Harman.

"Shall I turn around, Master?" the maid asked.

Harman contemplated for a few short seconds as he watched the scene. Part of him did want to avoid it, if only to prevent revealing himself to the world too early. But another part of him, the part that was once, and still is, a principal of an elementary school that cared for children, wanted to see what was happening and stop it. Perhaps it was his guilt gnawing at him for being unable to save the children during that bloody massacre, but this was something that he knew he could not ignore. Besides, he was going to reveal himself sooner or later. Finally, he said, "No. I am curious. Bring me there."

Siesta complied with the request, pushing the wheelchair slowly over to the group. She felt uncomfortable having to surround herself with so many nobles, but it was her Master's order, and she would do it. As the two approached, the shouting became clearer, the high pitch of the voice revealing that it belonged to a girl.

"You were cheating on me! Again!"

"Monmon, please, I-"

"Sir Guiche… I knew it! You're with Miss Montmorency after all!"

"Now Katie-"

"Oh, so Katie is her name! You two are on a first name basis now, are you!?"

"Monmon, please calm down! I-I can explain-"

"Guiche!"

"Sir Guiche!"

"And just what is going on here?"

The deep, raspy voice cut through the crowd, silencing the yelling and forcing the students to turn to its source. Some of the nobles moved back to create a path for Harman and Siesta as the latter pushed the wheelchair into the crowd, stopping just before the three arguing students. The elder Smith's eyes travelled slowly, moving from the children in the crowd and then to the three students that were causing the scene.

The blond boy, Guiche, took one look at the elderly man's clothes and scoffed. "You dare to interrupt a noble's discu-" The words got caught in his throat when the elderly man leveled an intense glare upon him, a glare that Harman used to silence delinquents during his time as a principal.

He turned to the female blonde, softening his eyes before speaking. "Tell me, child. What is the problem here?"

The blonde girl, Montmorency, thought it odd that an old man, a commoner one at that, judging from his simple clothes, would interrupt an argument that had absolutely nothing to do with him. But for some reason, the man gave off this grandfatherly image with his the way he looked at her and how calming his voice sound despite its rasp. She felt that she could tell him.

"Well, sir," the blonde girl began as she pointed at the blonde boy, "my boyfriend, or should I say ex-boyfriend," she added with a snarl, "cheated on me! Again!"

"Sir Guiche... it's true after all..." the brunette said as tears welled up in her eyes before running out of the crowd, the students making room for her as she ran.

"Katie! Come back! Please!" the blonde boy, Guiche raised his voice to try and calm the situation. "I was not cheating on either of you! I-"

"It sounds much like cheating to me, child." Harman interrupted. Some of the nobles in the crowd chuckled as Guiche sputtered. Harman turned to the blonde girl.

"I know I come off as prying old man," the Smith began, "but I think you should choose who you date more wisely."

"Stay out of this old man!" Guiche growled, but he was ignored.

Montmorency nodded her head. "Yes, I believe you're right." With that, she stepped over to Guiche, stopping at arm's length.

"Monmon, listen to-" whatever Guiche was about to say was cut off when a hand struck his cheek, forcing his head to the side, an angry red mark in the shape of a hand fading into view. Montmorency huffed, turned around, and walked briskly away from the crowd.

The crowd of students burst into laughter the moment she was out of sight. Guiche's face turned red from embarrassment, rage, and the mark left behind by Montmorency's slap. Even Siesta wanted to laugh at the noble's misfortune, but seeing the expression on her Master's face forced her to hold it back. It was a look that showed disappointment.

"Silence!" Harman commanded in a scolding tone as he looked at the faces in the crowd, some of them cowing under his stare. The laughter died out almost immediately. Harman continued, "You all would laugh at another's misfortune? You are all nobles, are you not? Raised to be cultured and refined, yet what I see here is a bunch of children acting like fools. Act like the nobility that you are!" Shame filled the looks of on the faces of the children.

Harman looked at Guiche. "As for you, young man, you need to apologize."

"What?" The blonde boy questioned through gritted teeth. Who was this commoner to dare talk to nobles in such a fashion. If the old man had just minded his business and went on his way...! Now, two beautiful roses are in pain, and one of them is angry with him! What's more, he was made into a laughing stock in front of so many people! And now he was telling him to apologize?

"Why should I!?" Guiche snarled, "I did nothing wrong! In fact," here, he straightened his posture as he pointed a finger at Harman, "it was your fault this happened!"

Harman tilted his head to the side, face expressionless. "Oh? And how is it my fault? For being a responsible adult and stopping an argument between children before things got out of hand?"

"I could have explained if you hadn't minded your own business!"

Harman raised an eyebrow as he slowly replied, "Explained? You could not even get a sentence in, child."

Guiche flinched.

"And you were the one who was two-timing and the one that got caught in the act."

Guiche flinched again.

"And most importantly, it was through your actions that hurt those two ladies."

Guiche flinched once more. "N-no! Like I said you-!"

Harman interrupted with a heavy sigh and looked at Guiche straight in the eye. "Child. Let me ask you a question. Why did you decide to see another woman knowing you already had one?"

The blonde boy averted the man's gaze at the question. "B-because a rose blooms for all..." he replied lamely, with a slight stutter.

Harman shook his head, "A rose, you say? Hm. You look more like a weed to me."

Guiche snapped his head up, face contorted in obvious outrage. "You dare!" he yelled. Siesta flinched back, but the elderly man merely raised a hand to stop him.

"A rose would not make two women cry. That is what a weed would do, wouldn't you agree?"

The blond boy froze. "I..." he began, but the words died in his throat.

What was there to say when he knew that the old man was correct?

Guiche recalled the way Katie ran from him as she cried, the hurt look Montmorency gave him before it turned into anger. He recalled all the women he's ever romanced...

...and all the broken hearts he left them with.

The old man was right. 'I am a weed,' Guiche thought, hanging his head in shame.

Harman watched the boy as he contemplated his actions and let out a small, satisfied smile. 'Good. Think about what you've done, child, and then fix it.'

"Child," Harman said, Guiche raising his head to look at him, "Apologize to the two ladies, understand?"

The blonde noble nodded, his eyes downcast, "I won't make them cry again."

The elder Smith turned to Siesta, giving her a small smile. "We are done here. Take me to the dining hall if you would; I'm beginning to hunger."

Siesta bowed slightly, a relieved smile on her face. "Yes, Master." With that, she began to push the wheelchair out of the crowd. The nobles parted for them as they made their way to the dining hall.

Rumble. The earth shook. Some of the students staggered in place as they looked around confusedly.

"What was that?" Guiche asked no one in particular.

"An earthquake?" One student responded.

Rumble. The earth shook again. This time some of the students fell forward. Siesta had to hold herself on her master's wheelchair to keep from falling.

"Master, what was-"

"Siesta, get back!" Harman yelled. Siesta's eyes widened at the urgency in his voice and complied immediately, pulling the wheelchair back into the crowd as quickly as she could just as something smashed down near where they just were.

"Wh-what!?" a student spoke, voice stuttering in fear.

"By the Founder..." another said.

Siesta was stunned into silence at the sight before her.

It was a stone golem almost the size of the tower. The students and the maid all looked on in fear as the golem continued on its path, and from what they saw, it was headed straight for the central tower.

Harman adjusted his hat, a smirk on his lips. "So she's finally made her move..."

* * *

Fouquet knew it was stupid acting out her plan in broad daylight like this. Though in retrospect, no one would miss a giant, walking golem, regardless of the time of day.

She had a plan. But she couldn't wait any longer. Ever since the Summoning Ritual, Longueville, or rather, Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt, had felt eyes watching her every move. Most would call it paranoia, but one didn't become a professional thief without a sixth sense for these kinds of things, and Fouquet always trusted them. It saved her life more than a few times, after all. However, she didn't need to use any of her skills or deductive reasoning to figure out who it was that was watching her.

The Valliere, or Smith girl, as she prefers to be called now.

The girl made it blatantly obvious that she was watching her, and even more so that she knew that she was Fouquet. She's confirmed it numerous times. Whenever they passed by each other, the Smith girl would mutter something under her breath.

"Don't get in over your head, thief."

"Do not harm the children, Ms. Crumbling Dirt."

"After the Staff now, Fouquet?"

How could the brat have found out? Fouquet worked hard to maintain her cover for such a long time. Not even the Headmaster Osmond, a powerful mage in his own right despite his perversion, had no idea she was the famed Crumbling Dirt. It was absolutely maddening!

There were times that the girl would disappear and not bother her for hours, but that only served to increase Fouquet's paranoia. What the Smith was doing was a psychological tactic, and the thief knew it. The Smith would watch her relentlessly, making her presence known and then disappearing like a ghost, wearing down Fouquet mentally and physically.

And sad to say, for an experienced thief like her, the tactic was working.

Worse still was that she could do nothing about it, as the Smith girl made sure to make her presence known only when there were other people nearby, preventing Fouquet from taking care of the girl personally. Speaking about the Smith's actions would most likely cause the girl to rat her out. Fouquet had tried paying the girl a little 'visit' in her room during the night to silence her temporarily, but had found that the girl was always gone, much to her aggravation.

Fouquet had discovered days ago from that bumbling scholar Colbert that the barrier surrounding the treasury was enchanted. She had tested the enchantments the night after and concluded that they were far too strong for her to manipulate. So that meant the only way to get through would be through force. And what better way to cause it than with a punch made from a few hundred kilograms of stone?

The children below her ran like chickens with their heads cut off, scurrying to the nearest shelter available. She saw that some of the teachers had come, trying to get the children to safety as others launched spells at her golem in a poor attempt to destroy it. She noted that Colbert was among the teachers trying to get the children to safety. However, there were some students that thought that they could be heroes, particularly those two annoying ones riding on that dragon. She had to commend the two though; they were doing much more than the teachers.

But it was all too late anyway. The tower was in front of her, her prize held within its walls. All she had to do was to break it open and run.

Her golem reared its arm back and punched the tower. Fouquet had put a substantial amount of force into that attack.

Which was why she was so surprised when the tower's walls collapsed easily, as if the golem was punching a small cabin made of wood as opposed to a magically reinforced wall of stone. The momentum from the punch nearly threw her of her golem had she not conjured a stone hand to grab her.

'What happened to the barrier?' Fouquet thought. She didn't linger on that thought though, not looking a gift horse in the mouth. She jumped from her golem and into the ruined remains of the treasury. She quickly moved to where the Staff of Destruction was placed.

But found that it wasn't there.

No problem, it probably got buried under the rubble. A few quick wand swishes floated the rubble off the ground.

But it wasn't under the rubble either.

Fouquet began to panic as she turned around, throwing the rubble out of the tower, levitating the remaining rubble as she searched.

"Where is it!?" she screamed as she searched frantically, levitating and throwing rubble every which way. But no matter where she looked, her prize was nowhere in sight.

"Fireball!" Fouquet heard a yell behind her and raised a stone shield just in time as a fireball and ice lances impacted against it, courtesy of a pair of students riding a blue dragon.

'Tch, I can't believe I almost let my guard down,' the thief thought, scolding herself as she commanded her golem to distract the dragon as she continued her search. She had literally overturned every stone in the treasury, but everything but the Staff wasn't there. Had it been moved to a different location? Impossible! She covered her tracks perfectly! Well, almost. Somehow that pink haired-

Wait.

Fouquet gritted her teeth. Of course! That pink haired brat must have done something! That must have been why the barrier was so weak to the point it was non-existent. Why didn't she see it sooner?

Fouquet easily blocked another barrage of spells from the dragon riders with a stone shield as she contemplated her options. She could search for the brat, but she had already revealed herself. The thief was confident in her skills, but even she couldn't take on the entire faculty and win. As much as she hated to leave with nothing, her freedom and life was for more important. Decision made, Fouquet jumped onto her golem and proceeded to leave. Spells pelted her golem as she made her way out of the academy, but she paid them no mind, her head thinking about how much of a waste of time this whole endeavor was. She had been so close! She had had to deal with those noble brats, paperwork, and the constant harassment from that perverted headmaster and there was nothing to show for it!

The thief took a glance back to make sure that no one got it in their head to follow her.

That's when the thief saw her.

Calmly walking out of the main tower's large doors was the pink haired brat. She carried two objects in her arms. On her left she carried her black suitcase, and on her right side... was the case of the Staff of Destruction.

The girl raised the Staff's case and gave it a little shake, giving the thief a little smirk.

The message was clear.

_"You want this? Come get it."_

It was bait, and in the back of her mind, she knew it. But all the stress and lack of sleep that has accumulated over the past week coupled with her rage against the school and the girl ignored the thought. Fouquet turned her golem around and charged.

There were screams from students and teachers, some of them telling Louise to get away. The girl ignored them, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

"Good luck, Mask."

_"Leave it to me."_

With that, to the surprise and revulsion of many that have yet to see it and even to those who have, Louise exploded into particles of blood. The red mist hung about the air for a few seconds before converging and shaping themselves into a human's form.

But the form was not that of Louise's.

This new form was that of a tall man's, easily towering over every person in the Academy. His height was complemented by the sheer amount of muscle on his body, all covered under an expensive-looking tailored white suit, a purple cape draped over his back that flapped lazily in the wind. In his hands he carried two strange muskets, no, _miniature cannons_, as no gun or rifle ever made had such wide barrels. But what everyone took note of was his head, or at least, the mask that covered it. It was black on one side and white on the other, black and red flaming accents detailed around the eye sockets.

Fouquet was surprised by the appearance of this unknown, but it did not stop her charge. She was getting the Staff no matter what!

Big mistake.

Silently, the man raised his weapons and fired them both at one of the golem's legs as it stomped toward him, the shots leaving behind a white smoky trail. The next instant, a loud boom filled the air, spreading gunpowder, shrapnel and smoke as it rocked the field. A sizable portion of the golem's leg was destroyed and large visible cracks ran along the limb. The stone giant stumbled, and then slowly fell onto its knee. Fouquet hurriedly transmuted more stone to fill the damage, but the masked man would not have that. In a split second, he reloaded his weapons, aimed, and fired again.

This time, the entire leg was reduced to nothing.

And the golem fell, just about one of its arm's lengths from the man. But before it hit the ground, it managed to catch itself, an arm propping the rest of the body with its elbow. Fouquet snarled at the masked man, commanding the golem's other arm to crush him. Unfortunately, the masked man saw the intent and fired his weapons again, this time, aiming for the golem's shoulder joint.

"No!" Fouquet yelled. Many Earth users specializing in golems often overlook the fact that a golem is merely a puppet made of stone or metal. No matter how strong or large they create the body, a golem is only as strong as their weakest joint.

Fouquet knew this intimately, and thus always made sure to toughen the joints enough to give even triangle mages a difficult time destroying them. But the masked man's weapons were of a caliber she had never even anticipated. Desperately, she tried to reinforce the golem's shoulder, but the man's weapon was just far too fast. All the thief could do was cover her face with an arm and braced herself as another explosion blasted her golem apart. What remained of the arm and shoulder crumbled apart into rock. Fouquet angrily waved the smoke from her face and pointed her wand at the masked man, but then froze in fear. The man had already reloaded his weapons. And he was pointing them right at her.

He squeezed the triggers.

Hastily, Fouquet redirected her wand at her golem and used its stone to create a dome around her body just as the shots hit the golem just mere feet away to her left. The resulting blast was more than enough to knock her off her golem, her defense and her large construct crumbling as she lost her control over them, hitting the unforgiving ground as she futilely tried to break her fall with an arm. She screamed in pain when it broke. Her vision swam, her good arm cradling the broken one as she tried to prop herself onto an upright position with great difficulty. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the masked man walking toward her.

Fouquet gritted her teeth in anger. Damn him for reducing her to such a pathetic state. Her arm was broken, running would be futile now because the man would just blow her up, and she barely had any willpower left. The great thief Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt was beaten effortlessly. She would not let it end like this!

With the last of her willpower, she raised her wand. Pieces of her destroyed golem converged to form a crude fist of stone.

The stone fist flew at the masked man, intent on crushing his body into a bloody paste, but the man kept walking, making no attempt to move away. The fist neared. Students screamed, some shutting their eyes, others unable to look away. Teachers nearby readied their spells to intercept, but they knew it was too late. The fist closed in. Fouquet smiled weakly, at least she was going to prison with the knowledge of killing her supposed captor-

In a sudden flurry of movement, the masked man raised his foot and reared his head back. With a mighty roar, he stomped the ground, shoe digging into the dirt, and to the shock of everyone watching, struck the stone fist with his forehead.

And the fist exploded into dust and gravel.

Calmly, the masked man, no, the _monster_, continued to walk. He stopped before the shell-shocked form of Fouquet and pointed his miniature cannons at her. The thief, staring down at the barrel of the thing that had rendered her golem into nothing, dropped her wand and hung her head as she trembled in defeat.

Silence filled the area as the students and teachers watched the scene for a moment. Slowly, once they were sure it was safe to come out, they began to approach the masked man. The man who had just single handedly took down a golem conjured by a triangle class earth mage.

The students and even a few of the teachers cheered. A dragon landed nearby, depositing its two riders onto the field, both of whom were giving the masked man looks of interest, but for different reasons. The taller red head beauty eyed the man with passion while her shorter companion held her staff at the ready, watching the man's every move. Professor Colbert was there as as well, doing the same as the blue haired girl.

One of the teachers approached the man, his hands stretched out wide in gratitude, "Sir, on behalf of the school, I would like to thank you for-"

The masked man pointed one of his weapons at the teacher, freezing everyone in place.

"Don't move, amigo."

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.

And finally we get to see the Killer7 in action, or at least, one of its members. If you're worried about the masked man's head, then let me tell there is no need; he's headbutted bullets coming straight at him with even less effort.

The other members will be revealed in due time and of course, they will get to showcase their unique abilities. Come to think of it, Louise has yet to truly show what she's capable of now, hm? But, like I said, we'll get to it.

Please at least leave a kind review. Critiques are highly welcomed as well. Both give me the motivation to continue writing this!


	6. Talk 01

**_6: Talk 0.1  
_**

"Don't move, amigo."

The students and most of the teachers froze at the words, staring fearfully at the masked man could effortlessly destroy golems on his own. Tabitha gripped her staff, readying a spell under her lips, her taller friend doing the same. Colbert shifted his position to allow him to react immediately if the masked man chose to turn his attack upon them. There was a moment of silence as the crowd stared at the man, then to the weapons that rained destruction, then to the teacher frozen in place. Thankfully, the masked man slowly lowered his weapons and shrugged slightly. Many let out the breaths they didn't know they had been holding.

"Sorry," he began, his voice a surprisingly soft tone considering his appearance, "I'm not here to hurt any of you. I just can't allow you to come close to her," he gestured to the slightly shaking form of Fouquet, "not yet anyway."

"I-I see..." the teacher stuttered, backing away into the crowd, a relieved, yet fearful look on his face.

Professor Colbert stepped forward slightly, drawing the masked man's attention to himself. "And why should we not get closer, Mister..."

"Call me Mask," the large man replied. Colbert raised an eyebrow at the name. How appropriate. Mask continued, "And it's just precaution. Anyone of you could be working with the thief."

Much of the crowd looked cross at that statement, wanting to yell at the man who dared insinuate such a thing; 'How dare you!' 'We would never work with a petty thief!' 'We are proud nobles of Tristain, not criminals!'

But they didn't dare voice their opinions out loud, not to a man who can crush boulders with only his head.

Colbert, for his part, merely nodded his head, satisfied with the answer. As a former soldier, he understood the need for caution and was on guard as well. There was no telling how many times he had faced similar situations when he was under the Heavy Wind's command.

"And who do you trust enough to approach you?" Colbert asked. Mask shrugged again, still keeping one of his weapons trained on the thief.

"The Headmaster and my colleagues," the masked man answered, "And you, maybe," he added.

'Colleagues?' Colbert's eyebrows furrowed. 'Louise also mentioned that she had colleagues. And Louise's transformation into this man... yes, it was similar to what happened during the summoning ritual! That means...'

"You..." Colbert began aloud, glaring at the masked man, "you are a member of Killer7, aren't you?"

Mask nodded in confirmation. "That's right. My name is Mask de Smith."

The students who have heard the names Smith and Killer7 before stared at the man in a new light while the others just looked confused. The few who knew remembered that Louise declared herself to be a part of their organization.

The students had to wonder, how could the Zero be part of a group that had such power?

What was with that transformation of blood?

Who are the Killer7?

Professor Colbert processed the new information. 'Smith?' the professor thought, filing it as important, 'Louise shared the same last name.' Colbert spoke again, "Tell me. Why is Louise, a mere child, a member of an organization of killers?"

Mask stared at the professor for a moment before replying, "Not killers. Assassins."

Many gasped at the proclamation. Colbert's eyes narrowed. "My point stands. Why is Louise a member of such a group? I've never heard of the Killer7 before the incident at the summoning circle."

"I'm not at liberty to say," Mask replied, shrugging, "Orders."

"So you are fine with having a child commit acts of murder?" Colbert's voice was louder, undertones of anger and steel evident. Students and teachers all looked at the man with surprise and worry. Was this really the bumbling academy professor? Mask made to reply, but was interrupted by a deep, raspy voice.

"Now, now. This isn't something that should be discussed in front of children."

A part of the crowd moved to reveal an elderly man in a wheelchair pushed forward by a maid. The masked man gave a small, respectful bow to the elder man, weapon still pointed at the thief who, along with everyone else, looked at the elder man in curiosity. The maid stopped pushing the chair just before the masked man and stepped back and bowed lightly.

"Señor Harman," Mask said softly.

Harman returned the bow with a nod before replying, "Excellent work, Mask."

The large man shrugged, smiling behind his mask. "No problem." He turned to the maid. "A pleasure to meet you Señorita Siesta, I am Mask de Smith." He gave her a small bow. "Thank you for taking care of Señor Harman."

Siesta blushed and looked away. "I-it was no trouble at all..." she replied quietly. Mask laughed lightly before turning to Harman, eyes conveying worry.

"Are any of the children hurt?" he asked.

Harman shook his head. "A few scrapes on some, but nothing life threatening."

Mask sighed in relief. "That's good."

The elder Smith's smiled lightly before his eyes drifted over to Fouquet's injured form.

"Hm. Now that I look at her, you were a bit rough on Ms. Fouquet, Mask," he said, gazing at the woman's injuries, particularly the limp arm she massaged and held to her chest.

Mask sighed, "You know I'm not exactly the guy you call to minimize damage..."

Harman nodded, "Of course. At least she is not hurt too badly."

Colbert decided to step in. "Who are you?" he asked warily.

The elderly man turned toward the professor. "Ah, my apologies. It seems I've neglected to introduce myself," he tipped his hat in greeting. "My name is Harman Smith. It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor Colbert."

Colbert blinked in surprise. "How did you- wait, Smith?" The name 'Smith' again. There was also the familiarity between the Harman and Mask, and from observing their interaction, Mask seemed to be in a subordinate position. Was the relationship the same with Louise? If so...

Then could this man be the one responsible for Louise's change?

"Harman Smith, eh? You wouldn't happen to be related to Louise, would you?"

Another section of the crowed parted to make way for the speaker. Staff in hand, he trudged along slowly, rubbing and rolling his shoulder with his free hand. He gave a stern look to the elder smith and masked man, but it dissolved when Colbert walked briskly in his direction.

"Headmaster!" Colbert exclaimed, an accusing look on his face, "Where have you been!? Your magic would certainly have been useful!"

Osmond put his hands up in defense. "Calm yourself professor. There was a reason I was indisposed." The Headmaster brought his gaze upon Fouquet. "Fouquet, or as we all know her, my secretary, Ms. Longueville," many gasped at the revelation, "had put a paralyzing draught in my morning tea."

"Ms. Longueville?!" Colbert gave a hard look at the thief, who looked away, "Yes, I see the resemblance now. So that's why she was so curious about the treasury..."

Osmond nodded. "The reason why I hired her, actually, was to keep an eye on her. I figured out who she really was after I hired her."

The thief turned sharply toward the Headmaster. "What!?" she yelled, eyes conveying disbelief.

Osmond gave her a little smirk. "I may be old, and admittedly a bit senile, but I didn't get to the position of Headmaster of the famous Tristanian Magic Academy by accident."

Harman chuckled, drawing attention to him, "We old men are often underestimated."

"Quite," the Headmaster agreed.

Colbert furrowed his brow, "But if you knew that she was Fouquet, then surely you must have known that she would try something!" Fouquet had the same question in her head.

Osmond stroked his beard, giving a noise in the affirmative, "Indeed. She was acting very suspicious this morning, and that's when I knew that she would strike. But I decided to play along."

"Why!?" Colbert said angrily, "what was so important that you'd needed to endanger the lives of our students?"

Osmond raised a hand to calm the irate professor, "The students were never in any danger." He chuckled at Colbert's confused expression. "Come now, Jean, if Fouquet had wanted to hurt the children she could have easily done so. Granted, she was a bit rough with some, but most of the injured students were hit with falling debris or other students pushing them too hard."

"I-I see..." Colbert replied, turning his gaze toward Fouquet. Their eyes met for a moment before the thief turned away sharply with a huff. Did they really think she intended to hurt much less kill anyone, especially children? If she decided to kill, then it would be by her choice and doing, not by something as intangible as fate or accidents. She carefully maneuvered her golem just to avoid the idiots who stood in her way even if it had wasted her precious time!

"Even if they were in danger," Osmond continued, turning his eyes upon Mask's large form, "I'm sure you would have protected them."

"Of course," Mask said simply.

"If that's the case, then why did you allow yourself to be paralyzed?" Colbert asked.

"To draw me out and find out what you could about the Killer7." Everyone turned to Harman who smiled knowingly.

Osmond looked at the elder Smith in surprise. "You knew?"

Harman steepled his fingers together. "I had felt a presence watching my dear Louise. There were few mages in this school capable of such a feat, and naturally, you were the highest suspect. You confirmed that it was you just now." At Osmond's nod, Harman continued, "You monitored her hoping to find more information."

"Ms. Valliere's, or rather, Ms. Smith's change," Osmond said as he frowned, "occurred right after the Springtime Summoning Ritual. Since then, Louise has done many peculiar things, such as spying on my former secretary, leaving school at night, and walking into doors that magically disappear. And now this," he looked pointedly at Mask, "I had a hard time believing Colbert when explained Louise, er, exploded into blood and reformed. Sorry professor," he apologized to Colbert who nodded back. "But there was no denying the change in Louise's behavior, so I kept an eye on her."

"And naturally, you found out about me during one of our meetings," Harman finished.

Mask whistled. "Pretty clever, Señor Osmond," he said approvingly.

Osmond nodded. "However, I only saw one meeting," he looked at Harman suspiciously, "but something tells me that you wanted me to see it. Because I've tried to scry your other meetings, but every attempt resulted in me nearly being blinded by light."

Harman smiled mysteriously in response. Osmond huffed.

"I have many questions for you and your organization. But not here, too many prying eyes and ears," the Headmaster finished, looking at the crowd around them, particularly at the students.

"Very well," Harman replied, nodding slowly. He turned to his subordinate, "Mask?"

The man in question nodded. "Alright. I'll be heading back now," Mask announced. He turned to Colbert, "Keep an eye on her, will you professor?" he said, gesturing his weapon toward the thief, who flinched. Colbert gave Mask a small nod. Satisfied, the masked man looked at his Master. "Call me when you need me." Harman responded with a slight nod. Immediately after the gesture, Mask exploded into blood.

Despite having seen it already, many teachers and students gasped in revulsion. Siesta was among them, staring at the drops of blood in the air, covering her open mouth with shaking hands.

'What is this?' she thought, unconsciously moving herself closer to Harman. The elder Smith took notice of her distress and sighed. He had meant to tell her more about the Killer7 and their... peculiarities, but for the life of him had been unable to broach the subject.

The business of organized killing wasn't an easy subject to start a discussion with over afternoon tea.

Later, he decided, he would have a proper talk with her. And if she decides to leave because of Killer7's duties, then it is her choice and he would support it. It would be best to keep Siesta's hands from being dirtied from the eventual bloodshed that would soon follow him.

After a moment, the blood converged and formed the body of Louise, her suitcase and the case that held the Staff of Destruction forming on the ground at her sides. She knelt before Harman, much to the shock of most.

"Well done, Louise." The girl perked up at her name, a deep feeling of pride welling up inside her.

Louise lowered herself just a bit more. "It was no trouble, Master."

'Master?' was the thought of most of the crowd, their thought accompanied by open mouths and wide eyes.

"So I was right," Colbert began, "You... you're the leader of the Killer7!"

Harman turned to Colbert and tipped his hat. "Correct. I am Harman Smith, leader of the Smith Alliance. Otherwise known as the Killer7."

Colbert's expression turned cross as he made to reply, but Osmond decided that enough had been said already and coughed loudly, brining the attention to him, "Teachers, lend your care for the injured students. Students who are not injured, return to your dorms, today's classes are cancelled. Now go on." Osmond made a shooing motion with a hand.

The students and teachers followed the order, the teachers leading the injured into the school while the rest returned to their dorms, exhausted from the day's hectic events. As he watched them leave, Osmond turned to the group, "Now then, if you would please follow me. Bring Ms. Fouquet, would you professor? And make sure to take her wand as well."

Colbert's mouth formed a thin line, but nonetheless replied with, "Yes, Headmaster." He walked before the thief. "Can you stand?" he asked.

Fouquet huffed. "Do I look like I can stand, Colbert?" she said, her voice laden with barely contained anger, shooting Louise a look full of hate.

"Sorry about the injury," Louise commented, continuing despite Fouquet's look of disbelief, "I didn't want you hurt, but Mask isn't very good at keeping injury to a minimum." She paused for a moment. "Mask says he's sorry as well."

Fouquet scoffed, rolling her eyes. "How kind of him. I'll be sure to send him a thank you letter from my jail cell." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Colbert sighed. "Settle down, Fouquet. No need to be bitter about your loss." He noted the outraged look the thief gave him and smiled internally as he bent down to pick up the former secretary's wand and place it within his robes. He then slipped his arms under Fouquet's body, carefully so as not to hurt her arm, and lifted her up. Fouquet gave a girlish yelp, but caught herself quickly, turning her eyes onto the professor.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fouquet questioned through gritted teeth, giving him a glare that could kill. A slight tinge of red colored her cheeks from both embarrassment and rage.

Colbert merely raised an eyebrow. "This is the best way to carry you without injuring you further. Something wrong?" Fouquet caught the hint of a smirk on his face. Fouquet let out an irritated huff and turned away. First defeated, now made a fool of, and soon sent off to prison. Today was just not her day.

Seeing that they were prepared, Osmond made his way back into the school. Harman made a gesture to Siesta and she grabbed hold of his wheelchair handles and pushed him slowly as they followed the Headmaster, Louise and Colbert following behind.

They made their way into the Headmaster's office after an uneventful walk, though Osmond had to levitate Harman to get passed the stairs. The office was quite neat, a testament to Fouquet's ability as a secretary. To the far wall was a tall window, the drapes drawn to the side to allow the sun to come through, illuminating the Headmaster's desk. A few comfortable chairs were placed off to a wall on the side for any visitors.

The Headmaster sat on the lush armchair behind his desk. Siesta pushed Harman at the front of the desk, stepping back a few paces afterward, her eyes darting around the room in nervousness. Colbert set Fouquet down on one of the extra chairs in the room and stood next to her. Louise entered last, stopping near the door, letting it close behind her.

Seeing that they were all settled, Osmond cleared his throat. "Now then let's continue our conversation. But before we begin..." he cast his eyes onto Siesta who let out a squeak at the sudden attention. Harman knew the problem and spoke up.

"Siesta is my personal maid and therefore also a member of Killer7, if unofficial. She stays. Besides," he gave Siesta a look, "I want her to hear all of this if she is to become involved with us."

Osmond nodded. "Very well." He pointed his staff at Fouquet.

"W-wait, what do you think you're doing!?" she yelled.

"Sleep."

A small wave of unseen energy hit the woman. Her body slumped on the chair, almost falling if Colbert had not caught her. The professor set her onto a comfortable position before standing again.

"She won't be waking up for quite a while." Satisfied, he steepled his fingers together. "Now then, first question; is the name 'Smith' shared by all of your members?"

"Indeed," Harman confirmed with a nod. "However, only the true members, the ones who bear the name 'Smith', participate in missions. All others, like Siesta here," he gestured to the maid, "who are involved with the Smith Alliance but not true members do not bear the name."

"And why is that?" Colbert asked, crossing his arms.

Harman glanced at him. "A certain... 'requirement' must be possessed by those who wish to become a full member."

"And that would be?"

The elder Smith kept silent.

The Headmaster went for a different approach, "How did Louise become a member?"

At that Harman smiled. "She desired to."

"Desired!?" Colbert exclaimed, voice full of disbelief, "She wanted to be part of an organization of assassins!?"

Siesta gasped. "A-Assassins!?"

Osmond raised his eyebrows at the maid's reaction. "You didn't tell her?" he questioned, giving the elder Smith a look of disapproval.

Harman sighed. "Forgive this old man, Siesta," he said to her, "We will speak later, understood?"

Siesta nodded hesitantly, "Y-Yes, Master..."

"There isn't anything to discuss," Colbert contended, glaring at Harman, "If I were you, I would get myself away from this man as soon as possible. I would not trust a man who had to hide the fact that he was a killer to keep you by his side."

"Colbert!" Osmond reprimanded. The professor went silent, but his stance remained defiant. He turned his eyes upon Louise, who glared at him, and to the maid, who had her head down.

'They are just children,' Colbert thought, 'They shouldn't be involved in this kind of world.' Memories from a time ago were brought forth, but he repressed them immediately. He gave Harman a dark look. 'What kind of man would force children to fight for him?'

Osmond took a long sigh before speaking, "Now let's continue," he directed his eyes upon Harman, "You say that Louise desired to be part of your organization. Why?"

It was the girl in question who spoke. "I wanted to repay him."

"Repay?" Colbert repeated, "For what?"

Louise smirked. "Now, now. A girl's got to have her secrets."

The professor furrowed his brow. "Louise, this is serious."

Louise nodded. "Yes, I agree. A secret is a very serious thing."

"You know what I mean!"

A shrug. "I do. And I'm not budging."

The two stared at each other, neither willing to back down, that is until Osmond loudly cleared his throat.

"That's enough you two," Osmond commanded. The two broke their stand-off hesitantly. The Headmaster just shook his head as he turned to Harman.

"Alright then. Next question; what did you have Louise do during this past week?" Harman made to answer, but Osmond raised a hand, "And don't give me a vague answer. I want details."

The elder Smith chuckled. "Very well. Louise has been gathering resources; funds, services, information, the things that an organization needs to thrive."

"And how did you come about these resources, Miss Smith?" Osmond believed he already knew the answer, but asked for the sake of elaboration.

Louise looked at Harman who gave her a nod in return. The girl spoke, "Through working odd jobs and other methods."

Osmond "hmm-ed". He leaned forward. "You know, a man of my position hears a lot of things. Two things in particular have caught my interest; one is about a recent string of thefts targeting nobles."

Louise stiffened slightly, but Osmond and Colbert caught it, the latter widening his eyes at the implication.

"And the other is about a man who single-handedly caught about half a dozen of Tristania's most wanted. Each of those men has a sizable bounty on their head, and collectively, one could build a mansion fit for a low ranking noble." Osmond stroked his beard as he gave the former Valliere a hard look. "These events occurred during the past week, beginning after the summoning ritual. Coincidences? Obviously not. Well, Miss Smith?"

The girl just gave the man a cold glare. Osmond bit back the urge to flinch. 'She looks so much like her mother, it's scary.'

Colbert shared the same thought.

_'Heh, looks like he's got your number, eh kid?'_a voice mocked from within her mind.

'Silence, Hellion,' she barked back.

'Hellion' responded with a laugh as his voice faded away.

Louise sighed as she closed her eyes. "You are... well informed," she conceded.

"So you admit they were your, no, Killer7's doing?"

Louise nodded slowly.

"If I may ask, Headmaster," the attention was brought upon Colbert, "when you said 'Tristain's most wanted', you can't mean..."

"Serial killers, bandit leaders, fallen nobles," all eyes turned to Harman, "all criminals of the highest order."

Colbert looked outraged, "And you had Louise go after such dangerous people!?"

Harman was unperturbed. "It was her decision to accept, and she did. But you needn't worry; she had help."

"But she's a child! How could you be fine with putting her life in danger!?"

"I ask that you do not raise your voice against my Master," Louise defended. "Furthermore, do not coddle me. By the standards of this culture, I am already a woman; my choices are my own. Not yours."

"But Miss Valliere you must understand-"

"You need to understand," the young Smith interrupted, "that what I do is not any of your business. So please stop spouting your pretentious nonsense because if it wasn't obvious to you already, I. Don't. Care."

"Louise." Harman spoke up, his voice carrying a tone of disapproval. Louise visibly cowed at the tone.

The professor and Headmaster were gobsmacked at the tongue lashing the tiny girl dished out. They knew of her infamous verbal fights she often had with the many students that insult her, but this was different. Where the old Louise would raise her voice to a near screech and resort to childish name calling, this girl in front of them never raised her voice. She was calm, collected, and always had some kind of retort ready.

Again they wondered about just what happened to her to cause such a drastic change in her personality.

The pink haired girl bowed. "Forgive me, Master. I was out of line..."

She didn't apologize for her words though.

The elder Smith looked at the shaken professor. "Professor Colbert, I apologize for Louise's conduct." Harman smiled. "You care for Louise, no; you care all of your students. A good quality for a teacher to have."

Colbert shook himself out of his shock. "Yes, thank you..." he said, trailing off before sighing to himself.

The Headmaster took a long breath, "All right, are we all calm?" He took the silence as a yes. "Good. Well then-"

"Ah, before we continue," Harman tilted his head in Louise's direction, "would you please let in our guests. It must be uncomfortable trying to listen through the door the way they are." There was a muffled gasp from outside and a scuffling of noise.

"Yes Master," she obeyed, opening the door swiftly as she stepped to the side. Two figures fell onto the floor as a result of the sudden loss of balance, a mop of red hair falling onto blue.

"Miss Zerbst? Miss Tabitha?" Colbert said in surprise.

Kirche rubbed her head as she looked up at the faces that stared at her. She slowly raised a hand and waved her fingers.

"... Hi?" A beat of silence. "It was all Tabitha's idea."

Tabitha could only sigh.

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.

So now we get to the part where we get some answers.

Leave a review, would you kindly. Criticisms welcome.


	7. Talk 02

Thank you kindly for all the favs and followers thus far!

* * *

Tabitha and Kirche stood off to the side of the office, five pairs of eyes upon them; two demanding explanation, one in confusion, one in curiosity and amusement, and the last in indifference. The red head shuffled nervously at the stares whereas the blue haired one remained stoic but her eyes were fixed upon Harman's own.

"How much have you two heard?" Osmond said in an upset tone, getting straight to the point.

Kirche jumped slightly and tried to answer, avoiding the Headmaster's eyes. "Um... well..."

Harman chuckled suddenly. "They've heard almost all of our conversation."

Colbert was shocked. "Y-you knew? Why didn't you stop them?!"

"The two are too curious for their own good," Harman replied as he sighed. "Even if I had stopped them, they would have eventually found another way." He tilted his head to the blue haired girl. "Right? Chevalier Tabitha?"

Tabitha's eyes narrowed, the hand gripping her staff tightened. Kirche and Colbert looked at the girl in shock.

"Tabitha? You're a Chevalier?" Kirche asked, her voice conveying her surprise.

"How?" Tabitha asked the elder Smith.

Harman smiled mysteriously. "We've done much since we've been active, as you've heard."

"Threat?"

The elder Smith chuckled. "Rest assured we are a threat only to our targets."

"Truth?"

"You have my word."

A disbelieving look. "..."

Harman chuckled. "Trust me, child. I'm not here to harm any of you."

Tabitha stared for a moment before slowly relaxing. The words were sincere enough, and from what she heard, the Killer7 have only targeted people with bounties on their heads. Still, she can't let her guard down. That display earlier proved how powerful they were, and that Mask person was only one of the members. Granted, the masked man seemed to be kind, but it was better to be cautious than not. Who knows if the members shared that same mentality?

Even more so if there were members stronger than the giant man, as absurd as that thinking was.

Osmond cleared his throat and gave the two a scolding glare. "Miss Tabitha, Miss Kirche, I will lay out your punishment later." Tabitha simply nodded while Kirche gave a resigned sigh and nodded as well. "For now," Osmond continued, "I must ask you two to give me your word as nobles to not reveal anything you have or will hear in this room."

"Will hear?" Colbert asked, confused. Shouldn't they be sent out?

"They're already too deep into this, Jean." The headmaster waved a hand in dismissal. "Might as well let them hear the rest." He looked at the two girls. "Well?"

Kirche stepped forward and gave an over-exaggerated bow, her chest noticeably bouncing. "You have our word, Headmaster," the red head vowed. Tabitha rolled her eyes.

Osmond stared at the red haried girl for a moment before quickly shaking himself out of his stupor. "W-well, yes, good," he said, coughing lightly into his hand a light blush on his cheeks.

Kirche smirked triumphantly. Imperceptibly, Louise's eye twitched.

"Anyway," Osmond declared a little loudly, "Let us continue."

"Of course." Harman replied.

Osmond gave Harman a piercing look. "I would like to talk about the other members of Killer7. Is that fine?"

Harman closed his eyes in thought. A short moment later, he responded, "I suppose. But I reserve the right to not answer if I feel the question breaches our privacy."

"I understand," Osmond said, steepling his fingers together. "First question; how many members does your group contain?"

"As of right now, eleven." Harman said, but thought, 'However, that number may go down after this meeting.' He gave Siesta a discreet look. Osmond noticed, but did not comment.

"I see." Osmond smiled in a joking manner. "If that is true, then why are you called Killer7? Shouldn't you be called Killer11?"

Harman chuckled. "The original organization consisted of the seven founding members." His eyes filled with nostalgia. "I quite liked the name, as did the others, so we kept it."

"'Killer7' does roll off the tongue nicely, doesn't it?"

"Indeed."

The two old men chuckled together. The others, save for Louise, stared at the two strangely.

Harman quieted himself. "Ah. We're getting sidetracked again."

"Yes, sorry." Osmond apologized. "So, only eleven members?"

Harman nodded.

"Looking for more to join?"

"As unofficial members."

Osmond raised an eyebrow. "Not as 'Smiths'?" he questioned.

The disabled man shook his head. "As I've said, a certain 'requirement' is needed."

That again. The Headmaster knew that there was no point question what this 'requirement' was; Harman made it clear that he will not speak on the subject. "Fine. Let's talk about your members specifically."

Harman straightened in his seat, his eyes turning sharp. "Go on."

Osmond knew he would have to tread lightly here lest he lose his chance at the more important information. Osmond swallowed, choosing his next words carefully.

"First of all," the old mage began slowly, "I'd like to ask about... your method of 'calling' your members."

"Ah, yes." Harman gave Louise a glance. "Our method is a tad disconcerting."

"Louise exploded." Osmond deadpanned. "Into blood."

Harman chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. "It's always been like that."

Osmond narrowed his eyes. "I must say, I've never heard of magic using blood as a catalyst."

"Magic? No. That wasn't magic."

Four pairs of eyes widened. "It wasn't?" Osmond said, his voice conveying his disbelief. "Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that."

"It's true." Harman replied. "Aside from Louise, all of our current members do not have an ounce of magic in them. Myself included."

Kirche gasped. "Y-you're not a mage!?"

"Not at all."

"T-then, what of Sir Mask? That magnificent power earlier..."

'Sir?' Harman thought amused. He shook his head. "He is not a mage, Miss Zerbst. Far from it. Those explosions were caused by his weapons."

"He smashed a Triangle-class fist of stone! With his head!"

Harman shrugged. "Mask is quite strong."

The offhanded way he dismissed the masked giant's impossible strength unnerved the mages. Are the Killer7 really so strong?

Osmond shook his head. "You claim you're not a mage, Sir Smith, yet you've accomplished tasks that should only be possible to those that are." Osmond furrowed his brow. "Do you mind, then, if I test your claim, Sir Smith?" As he said this, he pointed the end of his staff at Harman.

The elder Smith caught Siesta moving herself just a bit closer to him. Harman had to smile. Maybe she won't leave after all? He addressed her with a comforting gesture before answering the old teacher, "It is perfectly fine, Headmaster."

That was all Osmond needed. "Detect Magic."

The aura of magic danced around the room. The Headmaster saw the magic emanating from himself, to the two troublesome students at the side, the professor, the sleeping thief, and from the pink haired girl at the door. The maid, of course, lacked the tell-tale sign of magic. As for the elder Smith...

"Strange..." Osmond said aloud, eyes narrowing in thought as he observed Harman.

Harman raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"The 'Detect Magic' is reacting to you." Osmond stared, squinting his eyes. "But I've never seen this before..."

Colbert raised his staff. "Might I also try, Headmaster? There is something I want to check."

Osmond looked at Harman who nodded. "Very well."

The professor raised his staff slightly and said, "Detect Magic!" He stared intently at Harman. A moment later his eyes widened. "It's the same."

"What's the same, Jean?"

Colbert furrowed his eyebrows. "This is the same reaction I received when I had cast 'Detect Magic' on the boy Louise summoned."

"Oh?" Harman let out. "I'm curious. What do you see?"

The Headmaster hummed thoughtfully. "You see, how 'Detect Magic' works is by creating an aura around those 'capable of magic' that only the user can see. But for you..." He stroked his beard. "The spell shows a reaction, but..."

"But?"

"It's difficult to describe. Your aura appears to be pulsing continuously. The spell would see that you have magic one moment, and then none the next."

Harman chuckled. "Really? How interesting. What would that make me, I wonder?"

"I don't know," Osmond replied, "This has never happened before, at least not in my experience."

"So shall we call these results inconclusive?"

"For now," the Headmaster agreed. "Let us get back on track... Where were we?"

"I believe we were on the subject of Killer7's use of blood?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Ah, yes. Specifically your method of transporting your members."

Harman made a hum in thought. "It is a bit hard to explain. But, I'll try." He cupped his chin. "Our members reside in a place far from here, but at the same time, quite close."

"And by close, you mean Louise?"

The elder Smith nodded. "When you look at Louise, you look at the entirety of the Killer7. And they are looking back at you."

Louise once again became the target of many stares. And again, she ignored them easily.

The voices in her head, on the other hand, were a bit more difficult. The pounding of a headache began to blossom. Louise took a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply in an effort to calm herself.

When she opened them again, she found herself staring at dark amber eyes.

The red haired beauty pulled the shorter girl's face closer to her own, much to Louise's discomfort and aggravation. " Yoo hoo~ Sir Mask~ can you hear me?"

"Unhand me, Zerbst!" Louise spat out, trying to pry off the red head's hands.

"Sir Mask!" Kirche continued unabated, her voice becoming more "Forgive this despicable girl, but... I've fallen for you, Sir Mask!"

"W-what?!" was said by the room's occupants with the exception of Tabitha who just shook her head at her friend's antics and Harman who chuckled mirthfully. Even the new Louise raised her voice.

"You crazy girl!" Louise yelled, mustering up her strength to fore Kirche off of her, the taller girl nearly falling to the floor. Louise dusted herself off. "Love at first sight? Don't be ridiculous, you harlot!"

"Ah, but Louise," Kirche played with a lock of her hair coyly, "Don't you recall what my runic name is?"

"No. Don't care," the Smith deadpanned.

"Well, for your information, it's 'Ardent'!"

"So?"

"It means that the fires of my love and passion are easily ignited!"

"And for that silly reason you're after one of our members, Zerbst?"

Kirche pouted. "It's not silly! It's a legitimate love!"

Colbert coughed. "Miss Zerbst. I do believe we are straying from our discussion? Could you please do this some other time?"

Kirche turned around and blushed. "Oh, yes. Of course. Sorry." With that, the red head stepped back to her friend, but not before giving Louise a look. 'We'll talk later' her eyes seemed to say.

Louise's eye twitched again. She heard laughter and an embarrassed shuffling in the corner of her mind.

"This meeting is turning out to be quite strange," Osmond murmured, to which Harman smiled and nodded.

"What else would you like to know, Headmaster?" the elder Smith asked.

"Hmm. Specifics on your members, hopefully. Just so I can prepare for anyone like that Mask fellow." Osmond gestured to the window overlooking the ruined Academy grounds.

Harman grimaced. "Right." He put a hand under his chin. "Well, you need not worry, only Mask is capable of causing substantial environmental damage. And maybe Louise, as I'm sure you all know," he finished, gesturing in the tiny Smith's direction.

"Yes. We are all quite aware of Miss Smith's, er... handicap," the Headmaster coughed, giving the former Valliere an apologetic look.

Harman laughed. "For me and the Killer7, her 'handicap' is a rare and valuable tool." Calming down, he turned to his subordinate. "Louise? Who is awake?"

Louise closed her eyes for a moment before responding. "Mask, The Punk, Barefoot, The Hellion, and The Thief. Four-Eyes is the only one asleep." The occupants in the room who weren't in the know made confused looks at the names.

The elder Smith nodded slowly, "And what are their opinions on revealing some of their... peculiarities?"

There was about a full minute of silence before she answered. "The Mask and the Punk do not mind. The Thief, the Hellion, and Barefoot wish to keep their abilities secret. The Hellion warns that he will kill you and everyone here should you, and I quote, 'tell these shits even two words about me'."

"My," Osmond began, sounding appalled, "This 'Hellion' sounds like quite the character..."

Harman shook his head, a half exasperated, half amused look on his face. Louise spoke again.

"The Hellion has a message for the Headmaster."

Osmond raised an eyebrow. "Yes? What is it?"

"The Hellion wishes you to 'shove that stick up your wrinkly ass, you perverted old fart'."

The professor, the students, and the maid jumped back when Osmond stood up, furious, "Why that little-!"

Louise heard howling laughter.

"Calm yourself, Headmaster," the elder Smith quickly interrupted, raising a placating hand, "You are just playing into his hands."

The old mage huffed and sat back down. "I hope the rest of your members aren't as... _uncouth _as him."

A shrug and a smile. "A shame, then. The Punk is even worse when it comes to respecting other people, especially the elderly."

There was an indignant 'Hey!' in the corner of Louise's mind.

"But, luckily," Harman continued, "The Punk is not nearly as dangerous."

Colbert stepped in. "How dangerous, then, is the Hellion?"

Harman gave a long, weary sigh. "The Hellion has warned me not to say too much, however, I will say this," His eyes became sharp, his voice grave.

"He is much more powerful than Mask."

There was silence for a while as the room's occupants let the words sink in, a mix of worried and fearful glances turning to Louise. They all saw the power that the monster of a man held, and now there was someone stronger than that?

It was Colbert who finally spoke. "He threatened to kill you..."

Harman sighed again. "Oh yes. He usually gives me quite a number of them every week..."

The professor raised his voice. "That's not the issue here! He threatened to kill you! His leader! Aren't you the least bit concerned that a man you say is more powerful than Mask de Smith would turn on you?!"

Harman didn't so much as flinch at the man's tone. "You're worried about my ability to control him?" He chuckled again. "Then worry not. I might not look it, but there is a reason why I am the leader of this little band of extraordinary people."

The Headmaster made to say something, but the elder Smith interrupted him. "And I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I, too, wish to keep my own abilities secret."

A sigh and a disappointed look. "Very well." He bounced back quickly, however. "Now, two of your members have agreed to give us information; Mask and this 'Punk', correct?" At Harman's nod, Osmond continued, "Well, we've heard a bit about Mask already so, who is the Punk?"

The elder Smith gestured to Louise and she nodded. "Con Smith, codename; the Punk," Louise began, albeit a bit mechanically, "Other aliases," Louise paused here, as if debating whether to continue or not. Rolling her eyes, she continued, "Kid with the Mouth, Shorty, AZN Gangsta, Speedy. Gender; Male. Age, 14-"

"14!?" Colbert yelled. Louise glared at him.

"We've been over this," she said. The professor turned away in a huff, his face clearly upset. Louise continued, "Specialty; infiltration."

"Specialty?" Osmond said, giving the elder Smith a curious glance.

"Each member specializes in a different area," Harman elaborated, "For example, if the Killer7 finds something that needs to be demolished, then we call Mask."

"And Louise?" Colbert spoke up. Louise gave the man another hateful glare, which the professor mostly ignored. "What is her specialty?"

"She is our face." Harman replied immediately.

"Face? What does that mean?"

Harman adopted a thinking look, mentally checking off Louise's duties. "She handles all matters such as negotiations and business meetings with clients as well as monetary management, recruitment, and acquiring information. Call her an extremely skilled secretary that sometimes gets her hands dirty."

Osmond scoffed, glancing at the sleeping form of his own former secretary. "Yes, I know the type."

"Despite being so young, Louise does so much for me," Harman said, his voice proud, "I'm quite happy that she decided to lend me her service."

Louise stood a little straighter at that.

Colbert decided to step in. "Since we are on the subject of members, may I ask who that boy was?"

Harman responded with a sharp look bordering on a glare, his mood changing drastically. "Boy?" he responded in a low voice.

Colbert held back a flinch and stared back. A strong reaction, the strongest Harman has shown thus far. The professor was glad he was getting somewhere, yet why does it feel like he was slowly opening something that should rightfully be kept closed?

"The boy that Louise summoned. The one that started all of this. Who is he?"

Harman cupped a hand under his chin, making a show of looking thoughtful. But his eyes showed that he knew exactly who the professor was talking about. Why the stall, the non-members wondered. At the back of the room, Louise frowned, a hand edging closer to her wand.

Finally, after a full minute of tense silence, Harman responded. "He is a colleague."

It was the same vague answer Louise gave.

Colbert frowned in frustration. "That's all?

"That's all."

It was most definitely not, and everyone knew that.

Harman adjusted his hat. "I'm afraid that this is one of those matters that would be a breach of our privacy."

"We'll meet him one day, I assume?" Osmond asked.

Harman smiled, but this smile seemed... melancholic. "When he is ready," he replied.

And with that, the topic was dropped.

"Is there anything else?" Harman asked.

"Weapons." Colbert blurted out, unintentionally letting some of his scholarly curiosity through. "Those weapons that Mask de Smith carried... what in the world were they? They were like cannons but obviously smaller and much easier to use."

"They're called grenade launchers," Harman clarified.

"Grenades?" Colbert's eyes furrowed. "What those weapons used weren't any grenades that I've seen before... The grenades I'm familiar with are merely iron spheres packed with gunpowder..."

"Yet your grenades had far more power than a barrel's worth," Osmond added, pointing to Harman. "That destructive power reminded me of the Staff of Destruction."

"I would think so," Harman said with a mysterious smile, "The M72 LAW and the M79 are practically brothers."

The mages looked confused. "Em-seventy-two law? Em-seventy-nine?" The professor asked.

"The proper name of the Staff of Destruction and Mask's weapons."

Osmond's eyes widened. "You know the origins of the Staff?!"

A nod. "Yes. It and I and the Killer7 all come from the same place."

"So that man must have..." Osmond mumbled to himself, his words barely heard by the others. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Osmond leaned forward and asked, "And where is this place?"

Harman gave no response, but continued to smile. Osmond sighed.

"Fine. Tell me more about the Staff, if you could?"

"Sorry, but I cannot," Harman said, shaking his head.

The Headmaster sputtered. "And why not?"

"Because 'Ground Zero' belongs to me now."

All eyes turned to the former Valliere, who held the case containing the weapon.

"Ground Zero?" Osmond asked.

"The Killer7 has a tradition of naming their weapons. I've decided to call mine 'Ground Zero'." Louise looked at Kirche. "Fitting, don't you think?"

The Zerbst laughed nervously, fully aware of what she meant. And regretting it.

Colbert pointed sharply at the girl. "Y-you can't do that! That belongs to the Academy!"

Louise tilted her head and smiled mockingly. "But it doesn't. At least not anymore. It's our payment."

"P-Payment?" The headmaster stuttered.

Harman chuckled. "You didn't think that we caught Fouquet for free, did you?" Harman leaned over slightly, his eyes obscured by the rim of his hat, smiling like a predator and eyes shining like the devil's. "I'm a kind man, but not that kind."

"Y-you..." Colbert could barely say a word. How can he? A man just claimed a priceless treasure, a weapon supposedly capable of killing dragons in a single attack!

The thought of the Killer7 with even more firepower... It scared him. It really did. And there were few things in the world that could bring fear to a man like him who had already seen and done so much. He prepared to voice his thoughts until Osmond began to speak.

"You're a shrewd man, Harman Smith," Osmond gave the man before him a hard look. And then he let out a laugh as his look softened, "A man after my own heart! Ha!" He struck out an open hand. "Very well. The Staff is yours."

Harman grasped the offered hand with a smile and shook it.

Colbert could not believe what he was seeing. "B-but Headmaster, you can't seriously just give away such a priceless artifact!"

Osmond, however, ignored the professor's outburst. "Will you be taking Fouquet's bounty as well?"

Harman shook his head. "The bounty on Fouquet is yours." Another smile. "Think of it as compensation for the damages caused due to this little incident."

"So generous. A mere half of Fouquet's bounty is more than enough for repairs."

"It's also payment for the rent."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Rent?"

"I'm living in this school by your permission. The least I can do is pay my landlord."

Osmond let out another short laugh. Calming down, he asked, "But I'm curious, how did you get to the Staff in the first place?"

"Barefoot." It was Louise who answered. Osmond waited for her to elaborate, but the girl shook her head. "That is all I shall say."

Silence once again enveloped the room, the Headmaster staring straight into the former Valliere's eyes as if searching for something. The girl met his stare without even a blink, not revealing a thing. The staring contest went on for a full minute before the old mage finally let out a long, tired sigh.

"I think we should stop here. This meeting has dragged on for quite a while."

Harman nodded. "I agree." He glanced at Siesta who had been silent throughout most of the meeting, whether it was by her training as a servant or by her confusion at the recent events. She caught his glance, but broke it after a moment, turning her head to the floor. Harman grimaced. "There are still a few things for me to do. Louise." The girl stood at attention. "The door."

The tiny Smith bowed. "Yes, Master." And with that, she opened the door and waited.

Harman grasped the wheels on his seat and slowly turned himself around. But just as he was about to wheel himself out the door, Siesta took hold of the handle bars of his chair. The elder Smith looked at her for a moment before smiling. And she smiled back. Harman looked behind him.

"Have a good day, headmaster, professor," Harman said, addressing the men in turn, "If you have any more questions, then tell Louise and she will set up a date." Giving them a final nod, he gestured to Siesta who began to slowly lead him out the door.

Making sure her Master and his maid had left, Louise gave the Headmaster and the professor a glare before picking up the two cases and then kicking the door behind her as she walked out. The remaining occupants of the room looked at each other with worried expressions save Tabitha, who was staring at the door, and Fouquet who was still asleep.

"Well then, dear teachers!" Kirche said suddenly, "We'll be showing ourselves out now." She bowed politely before turning to her friend only to find that Tabitha was already opening the door and leaving through it.

"Tabitha! Wait for me!" the Zerbst called, running after her friend when she felt a hand grab her wrist. She turned to meet the eyes of the professor.

"Remember! Not a word of this meeting to anyone." he said forcefully, eyes promising a very heavy punishment should his words be ignored. Kirche gulped and nodded her head quickly.

"Y-yes! I gave you my word as a noble, didn't I?"

Colbert regarded her for a moment before releasing her. The red haired girl rubbed her arm as she darted off after her friend, giving the older mages one last look and then closing the door behind her. With the sound of the door latch locking into place, Colbert turned to the Headmaster.

"Osmond," the professor's voice was quiet, "What have you done?"

"I did what I believed was for the best," the Headmaster replied, eyes staring at the door.

"You just made them stronger!" Colbert outraged, "We don't even know if we can trust them yet and you willingly made them more dangerous! You should have taken it back!"

The Headmaster regarded him incredulously, raising an eyebrow, "They've just shown how useless the treasury's barrier is against whoever this 'Barefoot' of theirs is. Even if we had the Staff returned and repaired the barrier, the Killer7 would just take it back." He frowned. "I'd rather be on the good side of people like that. And if it means sacrificing a powerful artifact to do just that, then I'd say it's worth it."

Colbert was not convinced. "But they're assassins for hire, Osmond! We might very well be harboring our killers if they were paid enough! Who knows when they'll turn on us!"

The smile that appeared on Osmond's face confused the professor. "That's where I think you're wrong, Jean."

"Wha... What do you mean?" was all the professor could say.

The Headmaster had to roll his eyes. "Come now, Jean. You're smarter than this. Think back at what we've learned, specifically about a certain someone."

Colbert took a moment to think. And then he realized. "You mean Louise?"

A nod and a smirk. "Louise Smith, formerly Louise Francoise le Blanc de la Valliere. It may appear that she had forgotten who she was. But that isn't the case at all."

"She remembered Miss Zerbst..." the professor said.

Another nod. "Louise slipped up, and we have Miss Zerbst to thank. It isn't much, I admit, but it was there. She remembers, or rather she never forgot at all."

Colbert stroked his chin. "So the runes haven't done anything to her at all..." His brows furrowed. "So then why deny her family name and her nobility to become a Smith?"

The Headmaster shook his head in response. "Now that, Jean, is something that I'm still working out. But we've learned quite a lot today."

"Yet we still have so many more questions."

Osmond frowned at that, but he agreed. "Well, with the way things are set up, we'll not only keep an eye on them, but also have ourselves a cheap and efficient bodyguard."

"For now." Colbert said bitterly.

"For now." The Headmaster nodded. He then gave a worried look to his most valued professor. "You were quite agitated throughout the whole meeting."

Colbert had to scoff at that. "Agitated? Even I think that's an understatement, Osmond." His eyes grew hard. "Harman Smith... he's a monster. To even think of using children as tools for murder..." The elder Smith stood for so many things that the professor was against. He knew the type, the kind of people that would use a child for war; he'd faced them for what seemed like too many times back then.

And it broke his heart when he had to kill the children under their control for being part of the 'enemy'.

Osmond sighed deeply, his eyes conveying understanding. "I'm inclined to agree." He stood up, turned and walked to the window, staring at the ruined courtyard. "But, this Harman Smith, at the very least, is much kinder than a monster." He smiled. "He made it a priority that no one here was hurt. I can't help but respect that."

As did Colbert, but he didn't voice it. It would mean he acknowledged the Smith.

The professor looked at Fouquet's still sleeping form. "Shall I go get the guards?"

"Yes, if you could, thank you." The Headmaster replied. "We have a bounty to collect, after all."

Colbert gave a nod and made his way out of the room. Osmond allowed himself a lecherous grin as he stared at his former secretary's delicious curves.

"I'm going to miss you, Fouquet," he said sadly. Sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time today, he sat back on his chair, brought out a smoking pipe from the drawer under his desk, filled it with some aged tobacco, lit it, and took a long, much needed drag.

* * *

"Master Harman?"

Harman stiffened slightly at the voice of his maid. Louise, who was walking ahead of them, slowed her pace just a little, her head straight forward but ears listening.

Siesta hesitated, feeling her lips dry. But she had to ask. "Why didn't you tell me that you were the leader of... assassins?"

The hallway was thankfully devoid of any other individuals aside from them. However, that just made the silence that followed the question thicker. Harman thought of several ways to answer the question, his mouth opening and closing at different times trying to get the words out but failing. And all throughout that, Siesta waited patiently for his answer, slowly pushing the wheelchair back to his room. It was an odd sight to see; a master unable to answer his servant.

Finally, he found the words. "I just... didn't know how to even begin. I knew that I eventually would have had to tell you, but I didn't want you involved in this dark business for as long as I could have." Harman eyes drifted to the floor. "I'm sorry for hiding this from you."

Siesta was silent for a while, digesting her Master's words before asking, "Did Louise know about your job when she joined you?"

"Yes," It was Louise who answered. "Master Harman told me everything before giving me the choice to join him or not."

"And you did," the maid remarked, "You said you were repaying him for something. May I ask what it was?"

Louise continued her pace as she tilted her head slightly, allowing Siesta to see a small smile on the girl's face. "Master Harman gave me something... something I've always wanted."

"Oh, my dear Louise," Harman smiled kindly, "Anyone could have given that to you."

Louise shook her head. "One of them, maybe. But the other was something only you could have done..."

"So," Siesta began, her voice thick with curiosity, "What was it that he gave you?"

Louise turned away. "That's my secret."

Siesta pouted, humming disappointedly. "Why can't you tell me?"

"It's... personal," the female Smith replied, her tone seeming sad all of a sudden. Siesta knew then not to pursue it. She can't help but wonder, though, what was so important to Louise that made her become an assassin. Perhaps one day she'll find out. Siesta looked to her Master.

"So then, Master Harman, are you giving me the choice to stay or leave as well?" Siesta asked in an even voice.

"Of course." Harman answered, "And whatever choice you make, I will support it."

Siesta stopped. The two Smiths turned to look at her.

The maid looked at them and smiled. "Do you two know how commoners are treated?"

Louise's eyes widened just a little before looking away in shame. She knew full well how those bratty nobles treated the so-called 'commoners'. 'To have magic meant that you were above the rest of the world', and many nobles took that message for granted. Commoners were equivalent to furniture to be bought and sold. Some of the worst ones wouldn't even see them as people, not even giving them the respect they deserved for continuing to cater to the needs of their arrogant oppressors.

She knew just how the commoners were treated. She had been a noble, after all.

A lifetime ago.

As for Harman, he could only nod silently. His abilities have allowed him to peer out into the world and watch from that small room of his. He saw nobles who were kind to their subjects and some who were corrupted to the core.

Least to say, he had Louise and the Thief make sure that the corrupted were taught a lesson.

Taking in their silence as a 'yes', Siesta walked around the elder Smith, and to his surprise, kneeled before him, "Then you know how much you've given me by allowing me to be by your side. Not just me, but my family too. We're all grateful to you..."

"Siesta..."

The maid giggled. "I'm kind of like Louise in a way, now that I think about it. You've both given us something that we can't help but repay you for."

Harman stared. Just stared. "So... you're willing to serve me?"

Siesta took his hand. "If you're willing to have me."

And Harman smiled, a kind, kind grandfatherly smile.

Louise couldn't help but smile too.

_"Well, looks like the old man got to keep his little pet."_

_"C'mon, amigo, don't ruin this moment."_

_"Yeah, man! Shut up!"_

_"Make me, you little brat! I dare you!"_

Louise rolled her eyes and closed the door on the voices.

"Alright then," Siesta said, rising to her feet, and then curtsied, "I, Siesta of Tarbes, give my service to you, Harman Smith of the Killer7."

Harman laughed. "Then I, Harman Smith, welcome you to the Killer7, Siesta of Tarbes."

"What is my first duty as your maid, Master Harman?"

The Master stroked his chin, "Prepare a hearty lunch for all of us in the Alviss Dining Hall. Ah, but make enough for at least two dozen people." He nodded to Louise, who nodded back. "Louise needs to eat for more than just herself, you see."

Siesta's smile brightened as she bowed and hurried off to the kitchens. Harman watched her until she disappeared off into a corner.

"The Syndicate is growing," he said to Louise.

"It's getting livelier," she replied.

Harman chuckled. "And it will only become more so in the future." Harman turned his head to look behind him. "Would you two come and help an old man to the dining hall?"

Tabitha and Kirche stepped out from the corner they were hiding behind. The red haired beauty winked in Louise's direction, to which the Smith shuddered uncomfortably. Tabitha just stared straight at Harman.

"You two really shouldn't make a habit out of eavesdropping," the elder Smith reprimanded gently, "It's not healthy."

"Well it's not like we meant to!" Kirche responded, crossing her arms under her bust, "We just happened to be going in the same direction, is all!" Louise mumbled a curse under her breath then briskly turned around as if the mere sight of the Zerbst made her sick and continued to walk. Kirche bounced after her, asking questions about 'her Darling Mask'. Louise did her best to ignore them.

Tabitha stepped behind Harman's wheelchair and pushed him forward. Harman smiled at her in gratitude.

"You have quite the interesting friend, Tabitha, may I call you that?" the elder Smith questioned.

"It's fine," she replied softly, her voice quiet. She stared at two girls ahead of her, one chatting animatedly and the other getting more and more annoyed. "Kirche is... unique."

"That's a nice way to put it," he said, watching along with her. He smirked. "Still wary of me, child?"

"Enigma."

"True, we are a secretive group, but as I've said, you've no reason to worry."

"... I'll be watching."

"Hmm. Caution? Very well, I won't stop you, child."

"What now?"

"For now, I take the day off with my two dear subordinates. That meeting has left these old bones quite tired. I suggest you rest as well." Harman gave the Chevalier a knowing look. "I saw you flying around on that dragon of yours, casting spells almost one after the other. You must be quite tired."

Tabitha shook her head. "I'm fine. Normal."

As if on cue, Tabitha's stomach growled audibly. She blushed ever so slightly as Harman laughed.

"Skipped lunch," she said, eyes looking away embarrassedly.

"Did you now?" Harman hummed knowingly. "I thought so. That's why I had Siesta make so much food."

"... Food?"

"Yes. You and your friend are welcome to join us if you wish. I don't mind. Besides," Harman watched Louise cover her ears, an amazing feat considering that she carried her suitcase and her new weapon in each hand, as Kirche kept on asking her questions, "It will be good for Louise and Siesta. More friends their age for them. What do you say?"

Tabitha immediately responded with a nod. She was famished and the man was offering, how could she resist?

"Glad you could join us," Harman said, giving the girl a kind smile. Tabitha idly wondered if Harman had any grandchildren. He surely has the attitude befitting that of a beloved grandfather.

A few flights of stairs later, the group of four made their way into the Alviss Dining Hall where they met Siesta setting up a table for them. The dining hall was more or less empty by the time the group arrived due to Fouquet's attack. It was good for them; it meant no one to bother them. Finishing with setting up, and adding a two more seats to the table, Siesta retreated into the kitchen to cook up their lunch. They spent their time waiting by talking to each other; Kirche still trying to get Louise to talk about Mask and asking Harman about the Killer7 in general, to which he responded with vague, enigmatic answers, even as Tabitha tried to get him to elaborate. About half an hour later, two pushcarts filled with plates of succulent dishes and a few bottles of wine wheeled out of the kitchen, Siesta and the school's head chef, Marteau, behind them. Stopping the carts before the table, the maid had the girls choose what they wanted as the head chef stepped towards the elder Smith.

"You must be this Harman Smith I've heard so much about!" Marteau said in a gruff voice befitting his strong stature. Most people would never guess that such a rough looking man was responsible for the delicacies that make their way into the stomachs of Tristain's young nobles every day.

"And you are Marteau. Siesta has mentioned you," Harman greeted back. He bowed in his wheelchair. "I thank you taking time out of your day to provide us this meal."

"Haha! Think nothing of it!" the head chef laughed, "It's the least I can do for taking in our Siesta! Poor girl is working so hard for family you know?"

"Yes. She told me about them. I'd like to meet them one day."

The chef laughed again. "You're just like she said; a man who treats other people like family!"

"Well, only to the people I take a liking too," Harman confessed, chuckling.

"And honest! A good quality to have." Marteau leaned forward, staring straight into Harman's eyes. "Take care of her, alright? If anything happens to her..."

"Don't worry. She'll be safe in my hands." The elder Smith promised.

The two men chatted for a bit before Marteau retreated into the kitchens, waving goodbye to the group, who waved back.

Settling himself into the table, Harman observed the girls with a small smile. Siesta, at first, was a bit wary of Kirche and Tabitha, but soon allowed herself to open up to them, if ever so slightly. Louise was practically inhaling the food while trying her best to ignore Kirche's presence. Tabitha surprisingly kept pace with Louise's eating. Louise needed the food for the others, so then where did the blue haired girl pack it all away, he wondered? He shook his head, laughing softly, and began to eat as well.

Harman hoped for this and coming few days to be a relaxing one for these children. Because it was not going to last. He could feel it.

The world was going to change.

* * *

Killer7 is a property of Suda51, Grasshopper Manufacture, and Capcom. Zero no Tsukaima was written by Noboru Yamaguchi and illustrated by Eiji Usatsuka and its anime was produced by J.C. Staff. I am in now way affiliated with these people. I am just a fan of both works who thought to combine the two settings.

So we learned a bit. Not much, but, it's enough for now. Next part will be an interlude, but it will also be the introduction of an old friend of Harman's, so don't miss out!

Leave a review, would you kindly. Criticisms welcome.


	8. Interlude 01: Chess Game

A few things to say first.

There will be more of these chess interludes dotted throughout the story, sometimes within chapters themselves, but then they wouldn't be called interludes if that were the case. Each and every one of them is symbolism heavy, or at least as much of it as I could fit or even do a good job on. So keep those eyes open. The character that appears here goes off on a short speech about one of them. Hell, the chessboard and the pieces itself are already symbols for certain things.

It'd be fun if any readers would attempt to find out what those symbols mean. You don't have to, of course.

Well, with that said, here you go.

* * *

"Siesta."

The maid looked up from the tea she was pouring the Killer7's aged leader in his personal room.

"Would you kindly take me to the Viewing Room." Harman smiled in a way that was unlike all his others. This one looked almost... excited. "It seems an old friend has finally come to pay a visit."

'An old friend?' Siesta wondered. 'Wait... but how?' The only way to enter the Viewing Room was through Louise's Room, and certainly she didn't hear anyone come in.

'A mage, perhaps?' Siesta guessed. 'Or maybe someone like Master Harman?' The latter was the most likely. While a mage could possibly enter Louise's room without detection, they won't be able to see the door leading into the Viewing Room; only Killer7's members can see it. 'I wonder what his friend is like?' The maid wondered.

Siesta clutched the handlebars on her Master's chair and pushed him comfortably out of his room and into the door straight across.

The Viewing Room was larger than both Louise's and Harman's Rooms combined and was designed with a sophisticated and refined sense in mind while keeping the feeling of a cozy home. The side walls were covered in a in a brown wallpaper with repeating patterns of gold flowers painted onto them. Two wooden armoires, one tall and wide and another small and thin, both crafted beautifully, stood next to each other to the right wall beside a long dresser with a few potted plants, various tea sets, and pictures of people resting on its top. Above them were even more pictures hanging from the walls along with a pendulum clock that tick-tocked a relaxing rhythm. To the left wall was a more comfortable area. Sinfully plush sofas surrounded a low table in front of an unlit fireplace. There were more pictures on the wall and on top of the fireplace were a few of the many knick knacks that Harman had placed on small tables around the room. A large bookcase filled with all manner of books stood next to the fireplace. From the high ceiling hung a beautiful chandelier, bits of sunlight reflecting off of the crystals that provided its main framework.

But what Siesta loved the most about this room was the large glass window that made up nearly the entire back wall. The view from the window was simply one of the best things Siesta had ever seen. Fields of green stretched on for miles, mountains off in the distance, and a forest dotted off to the side all under a vast blue sky.

In the middle of the room was the chess table. It and its accompanying chairs were jet black in color. It was on one of the chairs that Siesta saw her Master's friend.

"It's been a while, Harman."

Sitting in a chair at one end of the table, his posture radiating an odd combination of nonchalance and kingly grace with a smile on his face, was a man. His features were exotic; slick, black hair, slightly upturned eyes with a long face, his skin color an odd, pale gray tone. He dressed in a green, tailored suit with a flamboyant bright green jacket with an upturned collar, the color contrasting sharply with the modest interior and Harman's own pure black apparel. The most striking features of the man were his luminescent pink eyes that seemed to glow. The look within those eyes reminded Siesta of Harman's eyes that encompass the entire world, its people, and its fate.

But this man's eyes glinted with so much insanity and evil that Siesta could not bear to look at them for more than a moment. Even his voice caused a chill to run down her spine.

Harman tipped his hat slightly in greeting. "That it has… Kun Lan."

"Kun Lan?" Siesta repeated silently, testing the strange name on her tongue. She shivered at the man's name, as if even hearing or speaking it was evil. A desire to run welled up inside her. She squashed it down.

Kun Lan eyed Harman with a raised brow. "I was wondering where you ended up. It's not like you to miss our weekly matches."

"Sorry," the elder Smith replied, "had to take an unexpected business trip."

Kun Lan cast his pink eyes upon the maid. Siesta froze. His eyes danced at her obvious reaction.

"And who's this?" The pale man questioned, still eying the frozen maid like a predator. He blinked, as if realizing something. Then he raised his eyebrow and smiled widely. Siesta shivered.

Harman frowned at his maid's discomfort. But it was to be expected. Not many people can stand to be in the presence of Kun Lan. "Siesta. Please leave us."

Siesta... wanted to disobey her master's command. The pale skinned man didn't even hide the darkness within him, evil seeping out of him in waves. She had to wonder how Master Harman could look so comfortable with Kun Lan and how the elder Smith could even consider this man as a friend. Even being in the man's presence made the air just a little colder.

But if she stayed, then she would be disobeying her Master. She didn't want to do that to the kind, grandfatherly Master Harman.

As if sensing the maid's internal conflict, Harman turned to her, "It's alright, Siesta. I will be fine."

Siesta looked to her Master, biting her bottom lip in trepidation. Reluctantly, Siesta bowed, turned around and slowly exited the room. She glanced at the two men, shooting Harman a look of worry, before closing the door.

Kun Lan smiled, looking at the door. "What a nice girl."

"She is. I don't know what I'd do without her," Harman agreed, wheeling himself to the other side of the table.

Kun looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. "She is one of mine."

"A fourth. But yes, she is."

"Hmm. And you're alright with that?"

"She has already given her services to me. That's all I need."

"Hmm."

"So... Chess as always?"

"But of course," Kun Lan replied excitedly, "I've already set up." He glanced at the board and its pieces, "I noticed you've gotten a new chess set. Got bored with the old one?"

"No," Harman shook his head, "Merely a change to match with the new scenery."

Kun Lan chuckled, "Quite. White moves first."

Harman responded by moving a pawn forward.

The two fell into silence, both fully concentrated on the match, the only sounds in the room made by the pieces clicking on the board and Kun Lan's occasional chuckle. The two never rushed their moves, both politely waiting for the other regardless of how long they took. To them, this was a pleasant game lit just right by the afternoon sun. No worries, no ill thoughts, just a fair game between two good friends in a moment of peace.

It's ironic that with every move they make they destroy that peace a little at a time. Not theirs, of course.

Everyone else's.

Almost an hour later into the game, Harman spoke. "I have to ask, Kun," Harman questioned as he moved his knight, "How is it that you've arrived here? I expected you a little later. The paths aren't always so easy to see."

Kun smirked. "To tell you the truth, Harman, I've visited this place a few times, quite a long time ago." A black pawn takes its white brother. "It was after one of our games that I first stumbled here by chance. Someone opened a door for me."

Harman contemplated his next move. "And you left it open?"

"There was no reason to close it."

"Heh."

Another silent moment.

"Are you awake from your dream?" Harman asked, a white pawn moving forward.

Kun Lan placed a hand under his chin, staring at the board, giving a noise of affirmation. "Hmm. Our little game has just gotten a bit more fun."

"How different this world is compared to the other."

"The normal laws don't apply here." A black knight takes the white pawn. "So much potential, don't you think, Harman?"

"Indeed." Harman moves his bishop, the black king now in its line of attack. "Check."

Kun Lan moved his rook to take the offending bishop. "And I've already planted a few seeds during my first visit. Little things, really, and only now did they begin to bear some fruit."

Harman stared at his friend. "Did the fruit grow to your liking?"

The sallow skinned man's eyes danced. "Much better than I expected. But you would know. You've already partook in it."

A white knight avenges its comrade bishop by taking the black rook. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

Kun leaned forward. "Was the crop good?"

Harman smirked lightly. "Indeed. I must commend you on your usage of the terroir."

Kun chuckled. "Yes, the terroir. The world isn't just divided in two here." Kun Lan gestured a hand toward the large window overlooking the land, "It's a bunch of tiny nations constantly trying to sink their tiny fangs into each other. The sheer potential on this world made the land perfect for the seeds."

Harman sighed. "Their magic, contempt and arrogance on all sides just make it easy to instigate conflict."

The sallow skinned man smiled viciously. "More water for the crops." He moved his second rook confidently across the field, the white king in its sights. "Check."

"Hmm." Harman did not hesitate and took the attacking rook with his own.

"Your goal for this world?"

"Oh, you know me, Harman, world domination and all that."

"There isn't an East or West here. Nothing for us to fight for."

Kun Lan's eyes seemed to shine. "There's always something to fight for."

The elder Smith laughed in response. "Now that is something I can agree on. But don't you get tired of it?"

Kun moved his pawn forward. "The both of us have been at this for a long time. But tired? Not really."

"We barely have time for fun anymore."

A familiar smile. "Now, Harman, there's always time for fun."

Harman laughed. "Of course." Harman moved his queen right next to the black king. "Checkmate."

Kun Lan blinked and stared at the board. Indeed, the black king was surrounded. He could take the white queen, but it would put his king in the white rook's sights. He laughed as he stood up, unaffected by the loss. "This time Harman, the game will be mine." He began to laugh again, this time more crazed, a savage laugh full of insanity.

"Because you're far too late!"

And then he vanished.

Harman smirked.

"No matter how many times you try, Kun, the result will always be the same."

The game has begun once again.

**_The day when laughter disappears from this world is drawing near._**

* * *

To all who do not know him, I am pleased to introduce Kun Lan, Harman Smith's equal, rival, friend, and chess partner. He is the cause of much of the grief that happens in Killer7, and will no doubt have his time to shine here. He only showed a small portion of his powers here, but I can guarantee that he is much more powerful.

As always, please leave a review. Criticisms welcome.


	9. Assassin 01

Hey, everyone. Here's a part of this arc. It's about the past, specifically, the Killer7's first week. Well, one of their members, anyway.

* * *

_**Assassin 0.1**_

The Killer7 proclaim themselves as assassins.

But when one thinks of the word 'assassin', they imagine a killer hidden in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to end their target's life. With that said, the Killer7 cannot really be considered 'assassins'. A more proper term for them would be... 'hired guns'.

The Mask, for one, is the most unsubtle of them all with his monstrous face and large stature, ear-shattering explosions following him where ever he goes. The Punk is but a mere child with weapons as loud as his foul mouth, always eager to show off. The Thief indulges himself with his desires of riches and glory, putting the mission second. The Barefoot's expertise lies in destroying what impedes the path of the others and is far too noticeable with her blood-stained attire and exotic beauty. The Hellion prides himself in the throes of battle, guns blazing, leaving ruin, blood, and death in his wake. The Zero is just as unsubtle and destructive as both the Mask and the Hellion in battle, but her duty is not on the battlefield, but to ensure the organization thrives. And The Master, though powerful, is limited by his disability, forced only to command the others, unable to truly display the strength that can command such extraordinary men and women.

They, among the Killer7, are 'hired guns'. Not 'assassins'.

But there is one among the Killer7 that can be considered an 'assassin'.

Silent, fast, and deadly, a master of disguise, undetectable whenever he wishes. His pale hair and complexion resembling a marble statue. Red eyes glowed with intelligence, calm, and murderous intent, hiding behind dark shades. All that his targets see before their deaths is the flash of a silver knife, and only then if he's feeling merciful.

When the Killer7 need someone dead as quickly and cleanly and silently as possible, there is only one man they trust to do the deed.

The one they call Four-Eyes.

Kevin Smith.

In the first week that the Killer7 has been active, Kevin had single-handedly taken the lives, and bounties, of over half a dozen criminals. Kevin was quickly gaining notice among certain circles, criminal and political among them. It was not for the number of criminals he killed, as impressive as it was for a "newcomer"; it was because of who those criminals were. All of the men Kevin had assassinated were wanted 'Dead or Alive'.

The words 'Dead or Alive' are not to be taken lightly. They are reserved only for law offenders and enemies of the worst kind; ruthless individuals who have become a threat to Tristania and her people. Bandit leaders who target Tristain's vital trade routes, fallen nobles who continue to oppress the commoners with their magic, serial killers who terrorize entire towns despite the efforts of the authorities to stop them, revolutionaries who speak against the Crown, and even other skilled assassins, such as Kevin himself.

On one particular night of the first week since the Killer7's awakening, Kevin was tasked with the assassination of one such individual. An especially dangerous serial killer, one with such a devious mind and dangerous secret that even the Four-Eyes had to work for his kill...

_Jumping on the roofs of Tristain's capital city with preternatural agility that belied his taller-than-normal stature, unseen and without a sound, Kevin swiftly approached his destination. The night was warm, and not a single soul was on the streets, the families not daring to come out. Even the presence of the police was scarce. It was a testament to how deadly his next target was._

_But the scarcity of life created a perfect night for tracking his prey. It makes the scent of blood easier to follow._

_And what a strong smell it was. This killer reeked of the scent of old and recently spilled blood. _

_There. In one bound, Kevin landed on a rooftop overlooking a dark alleyway. Though he disliked heights, he needed the vantage point; his target approaches, as well as the killer's would be victim._

_Well not on Kevin's watch._

* * *

_There is a popular horror story in Halkeginia told by adults to children who misbehave or during slumber parties or around campfires to spice up the mood. _

_'The Whitechapel Murderer' was its name. _

_It was the story of a man who stalked innocent people, be they man, woman, or child, in the dead of night. When they take notice of him, he chased them down relentlessly with fervor and perverse enjoyment, completely in love with the looks of fear etched into their faces as they ran. When the man cornered his victims, he made sure to approach slowly, letting the fear intensify as he savored it like a fine wine. Then he takes out one of his many knives and slits their throats before opening their bodies, removing their organs, and arranging them next to the corpses in a grotesque display._

_Truly it was a story that surely must have been written by a fairly disturbed mind. But that's all it was; a story._

_The difference between the story and him was that he was real._

_Tonight was a night just like the ones in the story. Checking that his cloak was tightened and that his favorite tool, a billhook with a wicked shape, was concealed, he smiled. _

_Another night, another murder for 'Jack the Ripper'. _

_The serial killer left his large house, carefully closing the door behind him. He walked the streets of the city, his wool sock covered shoes muffling the sound of his steps as his black cloak billowed in the image of Death. He snuck across the shadows of buildings and into alleyways whilst keeping his eyes upon the streets for fresh meat to cleave. It was getting more and more difficult. A lot of people were scared of him now, so there weren't many people wandering around, especially at this time of night._

_'Jack' wondered if he could just break into a house and kill off the entire family. He hadn't tried that before. It'd be a nice change from his usual method. _

_Something in him screamed._

_He shook his head as he decided not to do it. Besides, he didn't really have the proper equipment for breaking and entering. So he'll just keep looking. He snuck off to his usual haunts._

_Pubs were the most likely places for people to gather, even in the night. The most popular of these pubs was definitely the "Unicorn's Horn". It was quite a large pub which owed to its success for being able to cater to a large number of people at a time. The serving girls were quite the lookers as well, drawing in quite an amount of males... and some females. Groups of men and women came and went all the time. Noises of laughter, yelling, and singing can be heard all night and well into the morning in the "Unicorn's Horn"._

_For 'Jack', it was a butcher shop filled with choice meats. 'Jack' stalked and killed many just by waiting in an alley near the "Unicorn's Horn". He had made a neat little game of it too; random male drunkard, one point. Pretty female, two points. Lovey-dovey couple, five points. One of the serving girls going home after work, ten points. And when a group came out, bonus round! Follow them and guess which one of them would split off first! Get it correct that's twenty points if you kill them! Get it wrong, kill 'em anyway!_

_But unfortunately for 'Jack', the "Unicorn's Horn" was closed. He expected it; his kill count had been increasing, and he did kill a few of the girls that worked in the establishment. But he checked anyway, seeing no reason not to. Sighing quietly, he moved on._

_The town square was another excellent place for fishing up some meat. It was the one place where people were sure to cross at one point, noble or commoner, and regardless of the time of day. Of course, there were fewer people during the nights, but it was always just enough for 'Jack'. At nights, couples usually took walks through here, chatting about some inane thing, pub goers would continually criss-cross the pavestone, chatting loudly with their friends, late night entertainers would sing or perform tricks for the passing people, getting their share of coins and applause, and travelers who wound up in town would come by as they looked for food and bed. Some shops would even be open late at night, usually selling unique trinkets, using the glow of the moons to add to their mystery. _

_Sadly, when 'Jack' arrived, this place was also devoid of a single life, a ghost of its former self. Not even a stray animal dared to wander here during these times. Another sigh. Can he sate his desire tonight? He still had a few more places to visit. Maybe he'd get lucky there. _

_The "Charming Fairy Inn" was another hotspot of activity... at least, for the males with lecherous eyes. The Inn, run by a strange man who acted like a woman and his daughter, was famous for having very attractive waitresses dressed in some of the skimpiest clothing he ever saw. Droves of men would enter the place and spend their money as freely as the mead flowed from the tap and then leave hours later with not a single coin left in their purses. A successful business if he ever saw one._

_'Jack' didn't enjoy being near the Inn. While he did give the waitresses an appreciative eye every now and then, he did his best to make sure to find fresh meat from other areas. The Charming Fairy Inn reminded him too much of days long gone, the screams of young women that were faded into memory returning every time he approached. But tonight, he would have set aside his unease and take a look._

_It was on the way there that he finally got lucky. _

_'And who is that?' 'Jack' thought giddily, a wide smile forming on his face._

_It was a young woman in a green dress and white apron carrying what looked to be a box of wine. That unique black hair revealed her as the daughter of that strange owner._

_'Now doesn't she know it isn't safe to be out at night alone?' he thought as he observed the woman from the shadows, her head darting side to side nervously as she walked back to her home, occasionally glancing behind her._

_'Jack' slowly reached for his billhook and stalked her, a mad smile threatening to rip his face in two._

* * *

_Jessica knew that she shouldn't be outside at night alone. Not during these times when a serial killer was on the loose._

_But unfortunately, her job had managed to push her into a corner. Currently, the Inn was hosting a small party to some irritating, self-important, nobles who had demanded that they have the entire Inn for the night, forcing the girls to stay and serve them. The nobles were some of the most horrid people she had ever had the displeasure to serve. Not even Turenne, their tax collector, was as bad. They complained loudly about their 'low quality' food and drinks and forced the meals to be made over and over again. The poor girls were continually harassed, the nobles blatantly ignoring the 'no touching' rule. And her father had been forced to stay in the kitchen because he was 'an ugly beast that needed to be locked away for all time'._

_Her father was still crying his heart out._

_But what could they do? They were nobles; if the girls and her father resisted them, then who knows what they would have done._

_However, the true trouble came when the nobles ordered another round of wine. The problem was that they didn't have any more, the nobles having drank or thrown out what remained after the day's usual business. Jessica told the nobles as such and offered them other drinks, but the nobles would not have it and ordered her out of her own shop to go fetch some more._

_... Even though they knew about killer lurking the streets. _

_They forced her to risk her life for a couple bottles of wine. _

_She felt wrong thinking it, but she wanted those nobles to die._

_Luckily, the vendor they usually order their wine from wasn't far. She jogged quickly and briskly, glancing at shadows for any sign of movement. She reached their usual wine vendor without incident and was kind enough to sell her a box of wine even though it was late. But now Jessica had to carry the heavy box back to the Inn._

_A box too heavy for her to walk quickly with._

_She contemplated taking a few bottles at a time, making a few trips here and back, but quickly decided that was a bad idea. For one, she'd be exposing herself in the night several times, and secondly, the nobles would no doubt complain when they see her bring in only a few bottles. So, the girl steeled her resolve, and carried the box back to the shop._

_The only sound in the night was her shoes hitting the stone path and the soft clanking of bottles. She shook the whole way, nervously glancing at everything, especially the alleyways. She sung quietly to herself a song from her mother, one that would always calm her down when she was a child. It soothed her slightly, but the fear was still present._

_"Keep going, Jessica," she told herself, "Almost there."_

_And indeed she was. The Inn's lights could be seen, the loud voices within could be heard. She had made it! Jessica sped up a little, more than eager to escape this unbearable night._

_That's when a hand grabbed her head and pulled back, causing her to drop the box of wines, the bottles within shattering and splashing the cobblestone with red liquid. Jessica tried to scream, but the hand covered her mouth. She tried to bite, but the glove was too thick. She tried to pry the hand off, but the grip was too strong. Jessica was dragged back into a dark alley and pushed roughly against a wall. The cold edge of a blade pressed on her neck and Jessica cried._

_"Hello~" she heard a voice whisper. "Don't scream. I don't like that~" Jessica, her eyes widened and crying, looked to see a cloaked man with his hood propped up, his face obscured by shadow._

_But she could tell he was smiling. _

_'Jack the Ripper' was smiling at her._

_"Thank you so~ much, girly," his voice was like a child's, and that just made Jessica all the more scared. "I've been trying to find some meat for a long~ time, but I've been having no luck. Until now, at least."_

_Jessica sobbed. "N-no- P-please. Let me go." She whimpered pathetically. "I have a family a-and-"_

_"Yes, yes, I've heard it all." The cloaked man interrupted in a bored tone. "And I would~. But I've got to think about myself too, you know~? If I don't do this, then I can't fill this hole of mine~ and it'll keep eating away at me~" He brought the knife's edge a little closer to her neck, the blade drawing blood. Jessica screamed from the pain, but 'Jack' covered her mouth and slammed her head on the wall._

_"I said no screaming." There was an icy edge to his voice now. "You want to live right? Then do as I say!" He grinded her head on the wall, eliciting muffled screams from his victim. He noticed a strange smell in the air, a smell he was very familiar with. 'Jack' looked down to see liquid flowing down the girl's thighs. He scoffed._

_"They always do that." He said in an amused manner. His shadowed eyes looked back at the girl. "Don't be ashamed. It's a natural reaction for someone who's about to die."_

_Jessica was mortified and paralyzed with fear. She was going to die. So young, so many things she had yet to do. Her father and cousin would cry for weeks. The rest of her family would be sad. And the girls, who was going to take care of the girls? The shop too? What would they do without her to manage everything? _

_"Do you have any requests?" The cloaked man tilted his head. "Dying, I mean? Beheaded? Skewered? Stabbed? Gutted? Butchered? I can do them all." _

_Hearing no response other than choked sobs, 'Jack' shrugged and then smiled. "Gutted it is~! My favorite!" He raised his knife high above his head._

_And brought it down._

_Jessica's blood stained the cold ground._

* * *

As always, leave me a review. And also, please tell me of any spelling or grammar errors.


	10. Assassin 02

Hello all. Second part here. Much shorter, this time though.

* * *

**Assassin 0.2**

_Kevin had just settled himself on his perch as he observed the serial killer pulling his newest victim into the darkness. She was struggling which meant she was still alive. So this killer was the kind that played with his victims before going for the kill? Kevin had hunted and killed many of his kind with great relish. This night was going to be one of his more memorable ones since awakening in this world. But he cannot strike yet, the girl was struggling too much; too risky. He might hit her._

_The serial killer pushes her onto the wall and presses his blade on her throat. Not yet. The killer's weapon might kill her if he did not strike true, but his beloved Debaser screamed for the killer's blood._

_The man talked some more and the girl sobbed. He gave silent apology to the girl for taking so long and for the trauma she will no doubt carry with her after tonight, but he needed to wait just a bit more. The right moment to strike was coming. The girl screamed and the man silenced her. Kevin materialized his throwing knives behind his back. He felt his body lighten all of a sudden due to the runes that he kept hidden under a black, fingerless glove on his left hand to hide their glow. _

_The serial killer raised his weapon above his head. _

_Now! Three flashes of silver sped straight at the killer, descending from the night like holy lightning. In less than a second, the silver knives had reached the man. But instead of hearing the familiar sound of blades digging into flesh, Kevin heard the distinct noise of steel hitting steel._

_In the last possible moment, 'Jack', in an unprecedented display of agility, had let go of the girl and spun around in a wide, clumsy arc, and slashed the knives out of the air. Two of the knives clattered on the floor, but the last one, much to Kevin's horror, veered off course toward the girl._

_The girl screamed as she felt the knife cut deeply into her arm, a splash of blood falling onto the ground. Luckily for her, the knife did not stab into her, only grazed her arm as it hit the wall and fell on the ground next to her. However, she risked infection if the cut was not treated soon._

_"Come out! I can see you!" The man yelled, pointing his blade at the assassin. _

_Kevin grit his teeth in anger, both at his target and at himself for underestimating him. He didn't expect to meet a man of this caliber, not so soon, anyway. The way he moved, as unskilled as it was, was fast and precise, too good to belong to a mere serial killer. Even more that a single cut managed to intercept his knives out of the air, knives thrown far too fast for normal people to see. This 'Jack' had no formal training, Kevin deduced from the man's poor stance and the awkward way he held his blade. However, that single move showed that the man possessed something even greater than training or experience, something that one had to be born with. And Kevin knew what it was._

_The disposition of an assassin. _

_This man was just like Kevin. _

_The Killer7's assassin understood then how this man was able to evade capture and continued to kill for so long. Heightened senses, especially those that detect danger and bloodlust, sharp minds for memorizing the layout of any location and quickly thinking of ways to use the environment for any purpose, and the muscle and bone structure suited for fighting to kill; these are the gifts of a natural born killer. _

_People born with this disposition are incredibly rare, even if a person was involved with the business. Even the Killer7, hailed as one of the other world's greatest assassin organizations only possessed two of these natural born assassins._

_The Hellion was the other._

_Speaking of the Hellion, the Four-Eyes heard his screams for release, eager to let himself loose in a battle against another killer of men. But Kevin would not allow it. The normally taciturn man felt excitement rise in him joining his deep anger. 'Jack' was his prey._

_In an instant, Kevin dived straight at the serial killer, unsheathing his custom made knife, Debaser, and swung him at the killer, the man blocking the strike with his own weapon. Kevin, however, was trained whereas 'Jack' was not, so his strength managed to push the serial killer back a ways. The man stumbled, catching himself on his feet while Kevin landed and took the opportunity to position himself between the killer and his would-be victim._

_Jessica trembled and sobbed, staring at the back of the man who saved her. She could not speak due to her fear and pain, but she thanked the pale skinned man over and over again. As if reading her mind, Kevin turned his head and nodded. The serial killer laughed._

_"Another one that wants to take my head, huh?" The killer tilted his head. "Heh~ you'd be the 15th one now, I think. You are most certainly not a noble... but you're not a commoner either. You smell... the same as I do~." _

_Kevin said nothing, but he agreed. _

_The killer giggled. "Oh~ a quiet one, hm? A normal bounty hunter would be cursing my existence right about now and saying some things about bringing me to justice and whatnot. It's a bit different, but it's nice. I like you."_

_Kevin took a stance._

_"He he. All business, huh?" 'Jack' laughed. "You're definitely different from all the others. Even just standing there like that... it gives me shivers." And indeed, the serial killer was noticeably trembling. "My gut tells me that you're deadly, that you're someone that I shouldn't be messing with, that I should run away right now and never stop. It never did that before." Unseen from the shadows in his hood, he licked his lips. "It's exciting. I've never felt this way before! Could you be the one to finally fill this insatiable void eating away at me?"_

_Kevin didn't answer. He prepared. _

_The killer smiled and raised his weapon as well. "Well, we'll see won't we!?" _

_And in an instant, the two men closed their distances and clashed with the ring of steel on steel._

* * *

_As always, please leave some of your thoughts and criticisms!_


	11. Assassin 03

**Assassin 0.3**

_Clang! Clang! Clang! - went the sounds of battle between the two killers of men. It was like a harmonious rhythmic beat and they were both the band that made the music and the dancers that immersed themselves within it. Each move seemed choreographed, intentional. Indeed, it was a performance of blades where one wrong step would mean certain death._

_Dodge, counter, defend, strike; such were the motions of battle the two born assassins went through. The killer was good, Kevin had to admit despite the man's lack of experience. No, that was wrong. The man had confessed to fighting off other bounty hunters that hoped to take the large price on his head. 'Jack' had experience in fights, however minimal it was compared to Kevin's, but that experience allowed him to keep his pace with the seasoned assassin. _

_Kevin blocked another strike at his stomach with a quickly materialized knife which he promptly threw at 'Jack's' head as he jumped to the side. 'Jack' of course, blocked the incoming blade with his own and charged at the pale man once more, their blades meeting once again. _

_Jessica watched on, clutching her wound to stop the blood, hoping that the pale man would save her and bring the serial killer to justice. Her body screamed at her to move, to get away lest she be caught in their battle, but her body remained frozen, still trembling from the fear she had felt from nearly losing her life. All she could do was watch and pray. _

_Little did the black haired manager know, 'Jack' had already forgotten about her. All he saw was this man, or as his instincts screamed at him, this reaper of death attacking him. The serial killer laughed, ducking under another swipe and retaliating with a thrust which the pale man blocked easily. This was so much fun! Not even the noble bounty hunters were as fun a fight as this! It was with this man and only this man that he felt he could be killed by. It was amazing! Exhilarating! It's been so long since he felt so alive! _

_'And not that husk of an insane barely living thing that couldn't go a day without killing some poor innocent and tear entire families apart because you can't control your damn urge and disappointing mother everyday and- hahahahaHAHAHA-'_

_'Jack' almost fell backward as he leaned back to avoid the knife that came close to cutting his throat out, jumping back to avoid falling over. Damn, almost lost focus there. Can't let that happen again. With a growl, he jumped back into the fight, billhook flashing toward the assassin's head._

_Kevin blocked the strike easily with Debaser, but the blow forced the blades to come within inches of his face. But that was 'Jack's' goal. Immediately the serial killer pulled back, intending to use the protruding blade on his billhook to behead the assassin, sparks flying as the blades grinded against each other. But Kevin had already foresaw the killer's plan and ducked, avoiding the blade and causing the killer to lose momentum, spun on his heel and delivered a kick into the killer's abdomen. 'Jack' doubled over, spit flying from his mouth as he stumbled back. However, he recovered just in time to stop a downward strike that would have bisected his skull by putting his billhook in its path. _

_But this, too, was within Kevin's predictions. The moment his attack was blocked, he produced three more knives in his free hand, and with a quick flick of his arm, launched them at the killer's unguarded abdomen. _

_Where they bounced off with a sound of metal hitting metal. _

_Kevin didn't have time to be surprised as the serial killer pushed him off and attempted to slice his body in two. Kevin jumped back two steps, brows furrowed as the killer laughed._

_"Confused, huh~?" the killer giggled. He tapped his abdomen with his weapon, the sound of metal resonating in the alley way. "I got this from a noble that tried to kill me before~. Wind mage guy, I think. Tried to levitate me. His enchanted armor gave me a bit of trouble too, 'til I realized that he forgot to cover his own head!" 'Jack' laughed. "You know, I never used this thing until today; something in me told me that I needed it. And it was right~."_

_Kevin frowned. He should have expected the man to be hiding armor under his clothes. But to think that the serial killer managed to get a noble's armor... His titanium knives would easily have penetrated the primitive armor of this world, but magically enhanced armor was a different story. He knew he was going to deal with it one day, just not this soon. _

_'That wouldn't have happened if you just used a gun,' he heard the Hellion remark mockingly. 'Hell, I would've finished this thing ages ago.' _

_Kevin scoffed at that, knowing full well that the Hellion would prolong the battle just to satisfy his bloodlust. They were alike in that regard._

_It's why Kevin always preferred the cold edge of a knife. Guns were too easy, too simple. Just point and shoot. There was nothing enjoyable about standing back and killing a target from afar. But blades, especially knives, were so much more flexible. _

_For example, where a gun can only fire a bullet straight ahead, a knife can be thrown in a variety of ways. _

_Kevin materialized a knife in his free hand and threw it at 'Jack'._

_"This again!?" 'Jack' laughed, his billhook already cutting the air to intercept the knife. _

_Kevin gave an imperceptible smirk as his knife suddenly dipped mid flight in an unnatural angle, the billhook missing completely, and buried itself into the serial killer's leg, causing the man to scream as he was brought down onto a knee. And that was just one among his large repertoire of knife throwing tricks._

_"You..." 'Jack' snarled, gritting his teeth in pain. He wanted to take the knife out, but he knew from experience, that is, seeing it happen to other people, that doing so would cause the blood to escape the wound. He laughed, but it was forced. "Nice trick you had there. Didn't think you could make knives do that."_

_Kevin, taking a page from the Hellion's book of taunts, wagged his finger mockingly as he placed Debaser into its sheathe and materialized over a dozen knives in the now free hand._

_From inside his hood, 'Jack's' brow twitched. With a swift throw, Kevin let the knives loose. With a snarl, the serial killer batted the knives out of the air, the sharp noise of steel on steel ringing in the alley. He knocked most of them away, but two knives managed to get past, one impaling his left arm and the other cutting his left shoulder. 'Jack' bit back his scream this time, teeth grinding. _

_Kevin allowed a tiny smirk on his normally expressionless face. To block those knives at the speed they were thrown... not many individuals could do that, even with training. The silent man was more than impressed. He could only imagine what 'Jack' would be like if he were trained to fight... Kevin shook his head. Such a waste of potential. He would have made an excellent addition to their ranks._

_'Jack' forced out another laugh. "Well, looks like that didn't work." He stood up slowly, his injured leg shaking. "As if that was going to work in the first place. You'll need a lot more than just your knife tricks to kill me!" And with that, he charged again, ignoring the pain. _

_More? Kevin felt his tiny smirk widen. More it is then._

_Kevin spread both his long arms wide, over a dozen knives fanned in each hand, stopping the killer in his tracks. _

_"Just how many of those do you have...?" he shakily whispered, his skin paling under the hood._

_Kevin answered with the sound of blades cutting through air._

_"No, no, no, no, no, NO!" Was all the serial killer could yell as the barrage of knives sped toward him, the blades glinting with the desire for blood. Once again, 'Jack' was on the defense, his billhook ready to intercept however many knives he could. But he was unprepared for what happened next._

_The blades curved to the side and ground, hitting the walls and floor, and ricocheting off. What was a straightforward attack had turned into an assault from all sides, like the silver claws of a pack of beasts converging hungrily on their prey._

_There was no way to stop all of the blades, not from so many directions simultaneously, and no time to dodge them. 'Jack' could do only one thing; protect the vitals. A quick slash stopped some of the knives flying aiming his head, a few managing to cut apart the hood covering it. His torso would be fine, thanks to the armor. But his arms and legs..._

_Steel impaled flesh, a scream of unbridled pain following. Knives stuck out of 'Jack's' limbs like a macabre pincushion, soaking his skin and clothes with blood. Jessica almost threw up at the sight, quickly turning away, but the image had already been burned into her mind. Kevin didn't even bat an eye, already far used to the sight and more. He pulled Debaser out of its sheathe and dropped into a familiar stance. This fight wasn't over just yet. _

_'Jack' screamed again, his voice strained, his breathing labored. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, and it hurt to stay awake. Only anger and sheer force of will kept the serial killer from passing out right there. _

_"Damn you..." he spat out, pain evident in his voice. He took a step forward and winced from the pain shooting up from his leg. But he pressed on, raising his knife again, ignoring the pain the movement caused. "Even nobles haven't made me hurt so much. Who the hell are you!?" _

_No response as always._

_"Tch. It doesn't matter, especially when you're going to die!" He dashed forward, billhook furiously slashing at the assassin who blocked and dodged. Pain was disregarded, buried under pure adrenaline. His attacks were getting sloppier, but the strength and speed behind them was increasing. "Die! Die! Die!" 'Jack' screamed among the clanging of steel._

_Such ferocity, such need to kill! This bloodlust was almost comparable to the Hellion's but it was unrestrained like a wild animal's! And that's not all; there was desperation in these attacks. No, not the kind where a man was on his last legs, fighting for his life, but a desperate need to murder. They both were born to kill, but 'Jack' also had a desire to kill, as if taking life was like food and water. He was given a blessing and a curse; made to be a danger to everyone, including himself._

_Kevin pitied him. But the man must still pay for his crimes._

_The serial killer made another swipe at him, but this time, the assassin parried the attack and countered with a thrust at the head as the hooded man stumbled. But the hooded man, his instincts in full control of his actions, tilted his head to the side, barely avoiding the knife. However, his already torn hood was damaged further, the blade of Kevin's knife cutting a long line across its side, the bottom part of his hood falling away to reveal the serial killer's jaw. Snarling, 'Jack' regained his footing and attempted another slash. But like the last one, it was easily parried. _

_But 'Jack' smiled. _

_Kevin's senses suddenly screamed at him to move and not one to dismiss his instincts, he complied instantly, leaning backward and narrowly avoiding a glinting edge of steel hovering inches from his throat. One of Kevin's knives. _

_Blood spurted down the serial killer's leg from a thin wound where a knife should have been. To go so far to kill!_

_'Jack's smile turned predatory as he took a step forward, intent on driving the knife into his enemy's jugular, but Kevin grabbed his hand before it could move, forced it to the side, and delivered a front kick to the killer's chest, slamming him against the wall. _

_But 'Jack' only giggled lowly, his giggling slowly getting louder and louder until it was full blown laughter. He threw his head back, his hood falling from his head, and laughed at the moons and sky and stars. His pitch becoming higher and higher uncaring of the blood dripping from his body, of the assassin who could kill him at this very moment, and of the terrified girl covering her ears, trying to make herself as small as possible. Bloodlust ebbed from him in waves, washing over the alley like a blanket._

_'What the hell,' Kevin heard the Hellion say, a statement he too would be uttering if he could speak. He felt the others reflecting the same sentiment. What was wrong with this man? First the uncontrollable need to kill and now this? _

_And then the laughter abruptly stopped. 'Jack' straightened his posture and looked straight at Kevin, giving the assassin a good look at his face for the first time._

_'Young' would be the first word to describe 'Jack'; peach skin, beardless, full lips, high cheek bones, blue eyes all framed by messy, snow white hair. He didn't look like he was past his twenties. He would have been quite handsome, almost feminine, if not for the deep black rings around his shaking, bloodshot eyes as though they hadn't seen sleep in ages and that vicious, inhuman smile plastered on his face. _

_"The laughter. The laughing wants you dead. Can you hear it? It wants to kill~"_

_The killer giggled, his skin pulsing into splotched shades of red and black, the whites of his eyes turning dark and his pupils yellow and glowing before they returned to normal. _

_Kevin's eyes narrowed. This was beyond wrong now. Something happened to this man to make him this way, something beyond the boundaries of humanity. Someone or something changed him, forced him to be this way. It amplified his desire to kill and made him insane. _

_And then the serial killer blurred and jumped above Kevin, billhook coming down on the assassin's head. Kevin, surprised at 'Jack's' newfound speed, had barely enough time to block the strike, and when the blades connected, the assassin nearly lost the grip on his knife from the strength behind the attack._

_The killer's skin pulsed colors again as he laughed, pushing down on his weapon, nearly driving the assassin onto a knee, forcing the man to hold back the attack with both hands. _

_'Such strength...!' Kevin heard Mask exclaim, 'To think that there was someone here capable of challenging us!'_

_'Didja see the way he changed colors!?' Con said excitedly, jumping on his seat, 'that was so freaky and awesome!' _

_'Hey Four-Eyes,' the Hellion grunted, 'You look like you're having trouble. You still sure you don't want to let me have go at this guy?' Kevin could feel the smirk on the man's face, but as always, he did not, could not, respond vocally, only rolling his eyes and mentally giving him the finger as an answer. The Hellion laughed. _

_Louise, who had been sitting silently on a plush sofa while sipping a cup of tea, spoke up, 'Kevin, Master Harman asks that you get a sample of 'Jack's' blood. He wants to study this phenomenon. A vial should suffice.' _

_Blood for the Master? Kevin nodded._

_Summoning up a wave of strength, Kevin pushed back the 'Jack's' weapon. The serial killer was visibly surprised and redoubled his efforts, whatever it was that was augmenting his strength pulsing rapidly but it was no use. The tides turned and now it was the serial killer being brought down on his knee, the assassin bearing down on him. Using his advantage, Kevin's left hand darted to the killer's arm and tore out a handful of the knives impaled into the limb. That only served to make the killer angrier, his strength and bloodlust taking on new heights as the red and black skin became fuller. With an angry yell, he kicked off with his feet and catapulted the pale assassin off with his arms. But Kevin more than welcomed this, using the momentum to flip himself in the air and land on the wall, embedding Debaser into the stone to keep himself from falling. _

_"Get down here and let me kill you!" yelled 'Jack'._

_Kevin brought the knives he retrieved to his face, examining them as he ignored the killer's yells. Five blood covered knives should be enough for a vial. A quick thought, and the knives disappeared, reappearing on Louise' table._

_'... I said I wanted a vial, Kevin.' The girl deadpanned, staring at the bloody knives. 'And one of them landed on my scone.' She added, poking at the ruined pastry. The Hellion and the Punk laughed. Kevin just shrugged. It's not like he carried around vials wherever he went. Louise sighed. 'Nevertheless, good job. We'll have them analyzed when you finish here.'_

_Kevin nodded again as he observed 'Jack'. The serial killer's skin was pulsing less now, but the red and black was becoming dominant. 'Jack's' strength increased the more prominent that skin became and soon it will take over. He must finish this before that happens. _

_It was time to end this._

_Yanking Debaser from the stone, Kevin fell and landed lithely, greeting the billhook coming at his stomach with his blade. Kevin gritted his teeth; 'Jack' was far stronger than before now. _

_"What's wrong? You're getting weaker!" 'Jack' taunted, cackling madly. _

_Kevin parried the attack and countered with a quick punch to the killer's face. The killer staggered back but recovered quickly to block the knife speeding at his head. At that instant, Kevin was in front of him, silver already slicing through the air, seeking blood. But air was all it cut through as 'Jack' leaned back just in time to avoid it, his upper body now parallel to the ground. The assassin's attack did not stop there, however; instead of following through the slicing action, Kevin stopped his arm, angled his knife, the tip facing 'Jack', and thrust. _

_The knife would hit the enchanted armor, but 'Jack's' instincts screamed that it would not be enough so he quickly spun his body, pushing off the floor with his feet to gain momentum, and rolled away, the knife barely scratching the side of his armor. However, this maneuver made 'Jack' vulnerable and Kevin was more than eager to capitalize on this. Materializing a set of knives with his free hand, he set them loose on the killer who managed to avoid them by rolling faster and further away. _

_Which was Kevin's intent. _

_'Jack' stopped rolling when he knew he was safe and swiftly got onto his feet and was already sprinting back to the pale man's position, but by then it was already too late. _

_Six knives were taken from 'Jack' and five were sent to Louise. The last was kept to fuel Kevin's ultimate trick. He held the last knife close to his glasses and let them absorb the blood until the knife was spotless. A small offering, but it was just enough. _

_Kevin discarded the knife, placed his hand on his glasses, and took them off..._

_...and vanished._

_'Jack' stopped immediately and for a few seconds stared, dumbfounded. Was the pale man a mage? No, he didn't have a catalyst for spells and neither did he incant anything. All he did was take off his glasses. Was that it then? Were those glasses magicked to make him vanish?_

_Whatever the case, 'Jack's' instincts were flaring and screaming at him. He was only fighting one man, but it felt like he was surrounded on all sides and against a man like the pale assassin, he might as well be. He turned to the left, and then to the right, and back again, his eyes darting every which way. _

_"Come out!" 'Jack' yelled, his fear evident. But only deathly silence followed. Sweat ran down the sides of his face. He was scared. For the first time in a long while he was scared. Is this what his victims felt before their deaths? How funny. So damn funny!_

_Something long forgotten within him was crying. _

_And then his body and mind screamed louder and louder. Danger was everywhere! Coming closer! Closer! But where!? 'Jack' slashed at the air at random directions, as if they would strike the assassin. No. No! He won't die! Not here! There were still so many to kill! This void, this painful emptiness, it needed to be appeased. The laughter said kill and kill he would! So many many more to kill~!_

_'... No. This is the end, Carlisle.' _

_'Jack's' instincts stopped screaming._

_Then the flash of a knife snaked in from behind 'Jack' and found his throat._

_And just like that, the fight was finally over._

_'Jack' let out a slight noise as he stared at the steel embedded in his neck in confusion, as if disbelieving what had just happened. Then Kevin removed the blade and he felt the blood rush down his neck. _

_'My... my blood?' 'Jack' thought, bringing a hand to his throat, feeling the blood on his fingers. 'I'm going to... die? So this is what it feels like... it's so warm.'_

_'I can't hear the laughter anymore...' _

_'It's... nice.'_

_He fell onto the cobblestone path, body facing the star-filled sky. The light of the moons illuminated the alleyway allowing the serial killer to truly see the man who finally stopped him. 'Jack' felt his killer's eyes meet his own despite being obscured by the dark shades the tall man wore. There was no animosity between them anymore, no feelings of righteous anger, vengeance, or hate even though 'Jack' knew he deserved every bit of it. _

_Kevin kneeled next to the dying man who seemed so different now. His bloodshot eyes seemed so clear, so peaceful, his skin turned back to its peach color. When Kevin's eyes met with 'Jack's' he knew right then and there that 'Jack' did not want any of this. 'Jack' was a natural born assassin, but those were not the eyes of a killer. Bloodshot as they were, the light of insanity had vanished like it was never there, revealing only pure, sad orbs. _

_Slowly and deliberately the pale man took the hand that still clung to the billhook and removed it from the killer's grasp. Kevin showed it to him, placed it away, and slowly shook his head._

_'There's no need for this anymore,' the gesture seemed to say. _

_And then he nodded. 'You're free now.' _

_Tears welled within 'Jack's' eyes, stinging the dry, sleepless orbs, as he finally found peace. _

_'Jack's' life flashed before his eyes. He saw his lovely mother, bless her soul. He saw his bastard father. He hated his father. Father deserved to die. He wanted to kill him. But mother said killing was wrong. And he loved his mother so he listened. But it hurt to not kill, so he killed wild game in the forest._

_Mother protected him from father. Father wanted to use him. But she died, no, she was murdered. She was just a lowly whore, his father said. No one would care. He wanted to kill Father. But mother said don't kill. So he didn't._

_He remembered the screams. The dungeons, the blood, those poor girls and all the people that came in to satisfy themselves. His father's menacing smile. His father's laughter. His sadness and hate intensifying every day, every hour, every second._

_But Mother said don't kill. And kill he won't. _

_Then he saw the man with an angelic smile. _

_He saw his father trampled by his own horses as he watched with a smile; his first human victim. The only kill he ever felt true joy committing._

_'Ha.'_

_And then emptiness, a gaping hole painfully etched into his soul that tortured him for many nights. Nothing he did even marginally filled it. He thought back to his father, his death. So as a test, he killed another; a homeless man he found wandering around his house. He felt the hole fill._

_'Ha ha ha.'_

_But the void returned, so he killed some more. A woman. Then a man. Then a kid. Oh, Founder, he killed a kid. How many kids? Why why why._

_But the emptiness came back again and again, so killed again and again. Killing became a medicine that soothed the pain, then an addictive drug, and then a natural psychological twitch. Killing people became a daily chore._

_The cycle continued. The bodies piled up. Enough blood to fill a river._

_But still so empty. So sad. So full of regret. _

_And laughter._

_'Hahahahahaha~'_

_So much laughter. Urging him to kill._

_So full of hate hate hate hate hate HATE-_

_'HahahaHAHAHAHA- Shut up!'_

_'Stop laughing! Why am I laughing!?'_

_'It's not funny!'_

_'End it!' _

_'Please!'_

_'Mother, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!'_

_'I can't stop! It hurts!' _

_'Someone end it!' his torn soul cried and begged every day. One day, he hoped, someone would stop him and end his rampage and sorrow._

_And his prayers were finally answered. _

_"Are... you happy... mother?" the killer breathed. _

_The tears fell from his eyes, both in joy and regret, mixing with the blood that slowly gushed out of his throat and mouth, taking with it his strength and life. Finally the laughter, that curse, was gone leaving only blissful silence. How long had it been since he had such peace of mind? _

_'Jack' gave a lost, blurry look at the murderer and savior. Many people have been avenged and many more saved because of the pale man and 'Jack' could not have been happier. Now he can go face the punishment he so rightfully deserved. _

_'Jack' mouthed out two words to his killer, two simple words that released the weight of his world._

_'Thank you.'_

_And Kevin received them with a mourning, respectful nod._

_On that night, the serial killer 'Jack the Ripper', died at the hands of Four-Eyes. _

_It was also on that warm night, that 'Jack' truly smiled for the first time in years._

* * *

**This chapter was as fun as it was tough to write. Fight scenes are tough to pin down sometimes. As always, please leave some comments or critiques. **


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